Damon and Pythias
by TheKid'sKid
Summary: Howard Moon couldn't tell you what life was like before Vince Noir.
1. Chapter 1

PLEASE READ:  
Alright, first off, I'm super nervous about posting this for all to see. I'm not proud of my writing, and will probably pull a Tolkien and go back and edit chapters months after I post them. No guarantee on when new chapters will be coming out, only know that I won't become those authors who quit in the middle.

This is my take on The Boosh, from years before series 1 to far past series 3. Be warned now, it is a tragedy, since I'm literally incapable of writing happy endings /sob. It's not quite Howince. It is, but it's not. It's also very parental!Howard, although he does a shit job most of the time. There's really no way to describe their dynamic, so I'll just let the fic speak for itself.

The main purpose of this fic is to make the reader go back and examine the actual show in a new light. It's going to be the "real" way things happened, through Howard's eyes. The places and locations in this story are very loosely based on real places in Europe and the world.

This fic makes references to the TV series, the live tours, radio series, as well as the Mighty Book of Boosh. But you don't have to be fluent in Booshdom like I am (obsessed nerd) to enjoy the many references. So please, enjoy the show.

Title: Damon and Pythias  
Pairing: there's no word for what they are  
Summary: The 'reality' behind The Mighty Boosh.  
Disclaimer: Thankfully for their own health, I don't own them.

Chapter 1

Howard Moon couldn't tell you what life was like before Vince Noir, which is strange considering he'd been nearly two decades old when he first saw the boy. It's almost as if his life was one of those old silent films, and Vince had been the introduction of color and sound that Howard never realised he was missing.  
After the mutual, clean divorce between his parents, Howard and his mother moved down to the south of London, to a pleasant little town just outside a district Howard had never heard of, Mitcham or something.  
The area itself was peaceful, with nice weather and friendly neighbors. However, it was located near a much more shady stretch of London, riddled with rape and murder. Occasional gun fights could be heard in the dead of night, when Howard would sit awake in his room, strumming away on his guitar or absently scribbling musical notes onto a wrinkled notepad. The thugs and cockneys usually kept to their slums, but occasionally there would be the report of a break-in or street mugging in the quaint little neighborhood.  
Another unfortunate aspect of this new town that Howard had found himself dragged to was the school. There was only the one, separated into two buildings, and let's just say that it was a few steps down from Howard's previous school. Trading uniforms and proper speech for cockney spawn and on-campus police officers. Howard was just thankful this was to be his final year. Years 7 to 11 were rounded together into one solitary building, and the smaller building directly across the street was the primary school.

* * *

"Sooooo," Isabella Moon sang lightly as she stood in the doorway to Howard's new bedroom, watching her son remove clothing from various boxes and hang them neatly in the small closet. "Are you excited about next week?"  
She was talking about the beginning of the school year, which caused a pit to develop in Howard's stomach at the mere mention of. He most certainly was not excited. If Howard could have his wish, it'd be to go back to Leeds and spend his final year at his old school. Funny, how just a few years ago he'd have given anything for a fresh start; to just up and leave and have a chance to become a new, different person. Now that the opportunity was laid before him, Howard wanted terribly to press the 'back' button.  
Realising that his mother was awaiting a reply, Howard muttered out a feeble "yeah" for her benefit. He could tell she didn't buy it. Howard was closer to his mother than any other person in his life, which honestly wasn't saying much, as Howard kept a very arm's length approach to anyone, even family. You could say he'd learned from the best. His mother had no surviving family members, while on his father's side there were not only numerous uncles but grandparents as well. All of which had the same approach to anyone and everyone, especially family.  
Howard heard his mother sigh from behind him and, after lingering quietly for another minute, leave down the hall to tend to her own bedroom. He felt guilty for being so withdrawn from her; she was the only one he ever opened up and talked to. It wasn't the divorce that caused this low mood in Howard. He'd seen _that_ coming long before either of his parents. It was the move, decided so suddenly by his mother. After breaking the news to him she had asked very gently if he would prefer to live with his father and remain in his home town. And Howard knew before the words had completely left her lips that his answer was no. As much as he loved Leeds, there was no way Howard wanted to come home every day to a quiet house containing only his silent father, watching documentaries and re-reading the same books from over ten years ago.  
This didn't make Howard any more willing to go to this new school. And it certainly didn't make him accept that he'd be in this new town for at least a year.

* * *

Howard walked down the street with what he hoped was an air of confidant indifference. Inside he was jittering with nerves. It also didn't help that it was pouring rain, and because of this he'd had to spend nearly fifteen minutes searching for his misplaced umbrella, making him surely late to his first day to this new, admittedly frightening school.  
Reaching the corner of the block, next to the elementary, Howard quickly glanced up and down the street, beginning to walk hastily across when he saw no oncoming vehicles. That's when he saw him.  
At the time he had assumed it was a little girl, due to the bright pink jacket that stood out starkly against the grey haze of downpour, practically swallowing the small form so that all Howard could see of the child was her jean-clad legs and thick mop of short, dark blonde hair. The girl quickly disappeared into the front doors of the primary school, and Howard was momentarily relieved that he wasn't the only one who'd be tardy, before the thought slipped quickly into the back of his mind by the fright of almost being hit by a car.  
Needless to say, Howard was frazzled and jumpy throughout the day; from the first stern look his teacher gave him to the shoulder bumps in the crowded halls and the awkward isolation of lunch period.

* * *

"Soooo," Howard's mother had been beginning sentences with that drawn-out word for a while now. "How was your first day? Did you make any friends?"  
Howard marveled at the ability parents seemed to possess to make their children feel like pants-wetting little tots, no matter how old they were.  
"It was fine."  
"Just fine? Ah well, it's only the first day. I'm sure you'll find some friends; maybe a nice young lady?"  
"Mom, _please_."  
Howard rose from the table and set his empty plate in the sink. There was no way he was sticking around to hear his mother give him "girl advice". Not after the mortifying last time.  
Every day that Howard came home from school his mother would practically dog him with the same questions. And he couldn't really fault her for it. Even in Leeds he'd only had a small number of people he'd even speak to, and no one that he considered an actual friend. There had been a few playdates set up by his mother when he was very young. But those stopped around the time he was seven, when every child invited over wound up bored because all Howard wanted to do was either read or have intense discussions on music.  
Still, it was getting tiresome.

* * *

The next time he saw the kid was over three weeks later. The only reason he even remembered her was because of her giant pink jacket covering her small body. He was walking home when he turned a corner and caught sight of the child, crouched on the pavement and examining a crumpled banknote in her grasp. Pocketing her lucky find, the little girl stood and turned to look up at Howard. She- er, no, _he_. He? Howard wasn't so sure anymore. The kid was quite puny, his slight frame making Howard guess that she had to be about five or six.  
A long silence stretched between them, Howard unsure as to why he had stopped walking. Hands in his pockets, he shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other. As he did he noticed how the child's eyes followed his movements. No; tracked them more like. Howard puzzled silently over the odd tenseness in the boy (he was almost sure it was a boy), and then realised with a jolt that the kid was afraid of him.  
_'He thinks I want that dirty old note.'_  
Startled by this thought, Howard instantly felt a sense of shame, even though he truly had no intention of attacking the child. He couldn't help but feel too large, too tall against this petit child now regarding Howard with a wary stance. He leaned slightly away from Howard, as if gearing himself up to flee, when Howard began to slowly remove his hands from his pockets. Howard deliberately raised his hands, watching the confusion play across the kid's face.  
_'Say something, you idiot.'_  
"Um, hi. I'm Howard Moon. Uh, pleased to meet you." Howard stumbled over his words, too loud and heavy in the glass-like silence. The child seemed to ease slightly at his stutterings, no longer watching Howard's body motions, blue eyes now meeting his own brown. A small, "hi" was all that was offered in return, and the kid was off, scampering across the street. And without even looking both ways first! Howard wanted to call out to the boy, lecture him on traffic safety. Ask what his name was. But Howard merely clacked his teeth together and continued on his trek home.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: AUGH I'm so_ unhappy _with this! But my brain will crawl out my ears if I nitpick at it any further, so here!

Chapter 2

Howard's new favorite sound was that of the final bell toll at the end of his last class. Who in their right mind would schedule a math class for the end of the school day, when students are either all but passing out over their desks or so jittery with the excitement of freedom that there was about a snowball's chance any of them were paying attention to the teacher.

Exiting out the front doors of the school, amid a mob of suddenly enthusiastic teenagers, he looked out across the street to spot an oversized pink jacket containing a certain boy standing on the pavement. The primary classes let out nearly half an hour before Howard's school, so Howard was quite surprised that not only did the kid appear to be waiting for him (he was staring across the street at him like a stalker) but he'd been waiting for much longer than Howard was certain most children were willing to wait for anything.

Feeling a bit like the first victim in a horror movie, Howard made his way across the street; after looking both ways, of course! Once he was standing before the boy, Howard wasn't sure what to do or say. The kid just stared up at him, still seeming a bit tense, but no longer wary or frightened, just curious.

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Howard huffed lightly and pivoted on his heel to turn the street corner and head toward his home. He wasn't about to stand around like a cod fish in front of a kid he didn't even know! No, sir! And he was heading home. He had a lot of homework to do, besides. Crazed little pink street urchin, that's what that kid was. Just another one of those cockney spawn he was forced to sit in class with day after day. Stand on the edge of the street like a scene from some American horror show for twenty minutes and then go mute.

Howard was so lost in these internal rantings that it took him two blocks to realise the child had been trailing after him in silence the entire time. He stopped in his tracks so suddenly that the kid ran into him, knocking into the back of his legs before taking a few quick steps back. Howard once again turned on his heel and looked down at the boy, taking in his large blue eyes.

Silence stretched out like a rubber band; Howard letting it linger on for as long as he could stand, giving the kid a chance to break it with something, anything! After about two minutes the child was starting to freak him out.

"Well? Is your grasp of the English language limited only to that of the word 'hi'?"

Now Howard saw confusion playing within those eyes. He couldn't help the slight smirk that danced upon his face at this. Howard always did like the feeling of superiority. Back at his old school, he couldn't help but boast his excellent grades to anyone who would listen, and took great pleasure in trumping anyone in various fields of study, mainly literature. Needless to say, this led to him not having many (any at all) real friends. If Howard sensed that he had the edge on someone, especially if it came to brain power, Howard would practically leap onto said opportunity and milk it for all it was worth. So of course he couldn't help but continue on, cruel as he knew he was being.

"What's the matter? Not enough slang thrown in there for you to understand me? Should I have said something more along the lines of 'Alright, mate, could ya give a bloke some space so's I can head on to me home in peace, yeah?'"

Howard admitted internally that he was laying it on a bit thick. The shoddy accent might be pushing it. But hopefully it'd get the kid cross enough to leave him be. He honestly didn't want a little bright pink girl-boy following him home.

Anger was now written very clearly across the child's face. It seemed as if he really _would_ walk off. However, angry though he seemed, the boy stood there, absorbing the insults in silence.

In the end it was Howard who became angry and stormed away. He decided to just ignore the annoyance, and when he finally came upon his front door, he opened it a bit too forcefully. Stepping inside, he glanced back to see the kid standing on the edge of his yard. Shaking his head to himself, he quickly locked the door behind him.

* * *

That night Howard couldn't sleep. He kept imagining he heard sounds in the house, as though that kid was sneaking about. He even thought he saw a flash of pink go under his bed at one point.

That was it. Howard was going to die tonight. Left to bleed out from a throat slit wide open by a pink lunatic. Of course, it was all in Howard's head. He knew it was, but it still scared the piss out of him every time he gazed across the room and thought he saw blue eyes darting about in the blackness. Always staring, always silent.

* * *

That goddamn pink jacket was there to greet him the very next day. What the hell was with this kid! Howard was very unnerved by him, which caused him to lash out harsh words over his shoulder every few metres. Seriously, though, why the silent treatment! He couldn't be _that_ scared of Howard, or he wouldn't insist on acting as his shadow.

Two blocks later Howard resigned himself to his situation, and decided that he had himself two options before him: either physically force the kid to leave, as in scaring the pants off him or maybe hitting him. Or just accept this new blond-haired tick. While Howard could be petty and cruel, he simply couldn't dredge up the gall to become violent with this tiny thing. Well, with _anyone_, really, but like hell Howard would admit that! So with a sigh Howard decided to make the best of things. Looking over his shoulder at the child, still watching him goddammit, he peppered his tone with a light indifference.

"So, you never have told me your name. Do you even have one? Or do future thugs have to earn their titles by thieving or killing?"

Damn. Howard hadn't meant to be mean that time. It just came out. He really did have anger issues when he felt at a disadvantage. Howard wanted to be a bit kinder though, if he was to be escorted home every day. Besides, it was just a little kid. A dull, mute kid. But still, even the stupid deserved basic courtesy.

"You're not from here, are you?"

Well, there's something. The kid actually spoke! In a thick cockney accent, the small boy spoke in a small voice that wasn't as high-pitched and cartoony as Howard had imagined.

"_Well well well_. Now why should I answer you when you refuse to speak to me when I give my own inquiries? I'm from Leeds. Just moved here not too long ago."

"You hate it here. I can tell. You have this permanent grimace on your face, like you're walkin' wif a broomstick up your ass."

Turning to face the kid fully, Howard furrowed his brow at not only the crued language and big word coming from someone who looked five, but the insightfulness of this child's observation. Howard had thought he'd managed to fool everyone with his mask of indifference he'd been sporting since day one in this trench hole known as South London. He'd even managed to eventually fool his mother into thinking he'd settled down, and she could read him better than anyone he knew.

"How old are you anyway, kid?" Was the reply Howard's brain settled on as he continued his walk once more.

"I'm seven. Be eight in a few months, though." Seemed he was answering his questions now.

Reaching his front yard, Howard went to move up the small concrete walkway, then stopped short and turned to the boy.

"So...is this going to become a habit of yours? Trailing me home every day? Your parents are probably wondering where you are."

The kid's only reply was to smile slightly and then skip off back down the way he came. Howard shook his head at the pink figure darting off into the afternoon.

* * *

For over a week Howard had company on his walk home. They traveled mostly in silence, although the child sometimes would answer Howard's attempts at conversation. The kid wasn't so bad, once Howard got used to his presence where before there had always been solitude. He supposed it was kind of like having an annoying younger cousin who always insisted upon tagging along.

Friday afternoon Howard stood once more outside his door, looking down on the child as he turned to skip down the street, as was tradition by then.

"Wait!" Howard wasn't certain what possessed him to call out to the kid, causing him to pause in the middle of the street. This caused Howard to quickly step forward, head swiveling to look up and down the street.

"Get out of the road. D...do you want to come inside?"

Wincing slightly at how awkward he was sounding, Howard watched the kid slowly come back to stand before him.

"Alright."

A smile broke out on the kid's face. He seemed genuinely happy that Howard was inviting him into his house. This sparked a grin on Howard's own face. Walking up to his front door, Howard looked back down at the kid, who seemed a bit anxious all of a sudden, as if old suspicions were resurfacing.

"It's alright? I mean, your parents won't be angry or nothin'?"

"No, it's fine. It's just my mother. She'll just be happy to see me finally invite someone over, heh."

Okay, that was a little sad. Howard hadn't meant for that to come out so forlorn. And he especially didn't want this child knowing how invisible he really was. The kid seemed to pick up on Howard's attempt to back-pedal, and so sprouted out his question once more, as if to give Howard a second chance.

"I can really come in?"

"Yep. Yes, yes you can. You can come in, alright, but you can never leave."

Well. That was just bad. As the child's brow drew downward, Howard mentally punched himself in the jaw.

Yeah. Way to sound like some sort of creepy paedophile. That remark was sure to send the kid sprinting down the pavement. But the kid began to laugh instead, before adopting a serious expression and taking a step forward, bringing himself to stand directly in front of Howard. It was either a way to tell Howard that he understood it was simply a joke, or, if the kid took him seriously, it was his silent way of agreeing to the 'terms' Howard had set.

Swallowing thickly, Howard opened his front door and led the way into his house. Once the kid was standing beside him, looking about as if in awe, Howard closed the door with a small click. He gestured widely with his arms, falling (stumbling) into the role of host.

"Well, um, to the, er, right is the kitchen and dining room. And on the left is the sitting room. Just down the hall is the downstairs bathroom and laundryroom, and upstairs is mine and my mothers' rooms and the other bathroom, and..."

The boy looked up at him, smiling at the official tone Howard had put on, and Howard trailed off, feeling a bit foolish. It was just a house. The kid lived in one exactly like it, surely. Maybe a bit smaller, if Howard's mental image of the kid's upbringing was true. Howard felt a bit unfair for his imaginings of the child sitting in a rotting one-bedroom shared by five other siblings and jobless parents. It wasn't his place to assume.

"Can I see your room?" The boy had gone anxious again, maybe even shy, if Howard squinted.

"Sure." Was all that was said as Howard led the way upstairs. God, why did this have to be so weird and awkward. It was just the annoying kid! Sure, Howard had never, ever had friends over to his house, but wasn't this a fresh start, after all?

Once in his room, Howard was at a loss of what to say, so he simply stood to one wall and let the kid wander silently around the four-walled space, looking at everything, occasionally reaching out to lightly run his fingertips over something. One such object in particular was Howard's old gramophone. Well, his_ father's _gramophone, that he was only partially ashamed to admit he'd nicked just before the move. Stepping forward, Howard stood next to the kid as he carefully thumbed through Howard's records, kept organised in a small box. Howard hoped to one day have a better place to keep and display them.

"You like jazz? I only have a few records, but this one here is actually really rare-"

"Yuck. I hate jazz."

Howard swore he heard the sound of his record player's needle jump, though the thing was turned off. Howard was once more uncertain of how to respond to this damn annoying kid. He was saved from trying by the child, yet again. If this was to become their manner of communication Howard might just do something rash, like leap from his bedroom window. Or chuck the kid out.

"Yikes, you sure do have a lot of 'em, don't you. Jazz makes me ill. It sounds _awful_."

Scrunching up his pale face, the boy turned from the records and focused his attention on Howard's bookshelf. This didn't seem to improve his downtrodden mood, as he scanned the titles, saying aloud as he did so in a voice filled with...something.

"This is all you read? Chekhov? History books? _Is this a politics book_? Shit, you even 'ave an atlas of Norf Europe. Tha's it. You're becomin' a teacher when you get old. I knew you would, I could tell by your shoes."

Glancing down at his brown loafers, Howard directed an aggravated look at the back of the child's head, saying in a short tone, "I like Chekhov, and geography. Why does that make me a teacher? And even if I _were _to become one, why is that bad? Listen, did you ask to see my room simply so you could use its contents to insult me?"

The kid had enough grace to look a little apologetic as he sat down on the edge of Howard's bed, facing him.

"Sorry. Guess it's okay if you like boring fings. Cause you're boring; they match you."

"_Well_, sir, if I'm so boring to you, why don't you go do something better with your time? Because I know quite a few things I'd rather be doing than entertaining annoying street brats."

"I'm not bored."

"But you just said you were."

"No. I said you was boring. I'm not bored, though."

"Stop talking in circles." Heaving a heavy sigh, Howard ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, it's getting dark. You should go to your own house. Your parents will worry."

For a moment the kid looked about to protest, his mouth flying open, then closed. He looked once more about the room, then back at Howard, then to the floor, then back up to Howard, and with an unreadable expression, opened his mouth once more.

"Vince Noir."

"What?"

"Vince Noir. That's my name. I was told never to give my name to someone I couldn't trust. But...I guess you're alright."

"Vince. Well...nice to, uh, know your name, Vince. I'm Howard."

Howard felt foolish when he recalled he'd already told the child his name days ago. Vince only smiled at Howard and stood from the bed.

Leading the way back to his front door, Howard watched the pink jacket grow distant in the fading light. Closing the door, Howard felt drained. Forget homework, he was going to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Ramblings: Music is a **BIG **inspiration for this story, and for this song I listened to Louder Than Thunder by The Devil Wears Prada. It really fits the mood of the last half of this chapter, as well as Howard's thoughts on the future and this crazy kid he's been saddled with.

Chapter 3

Howard awoke at four that morning to the sound of his mother trudging tiredly upstairs. This was the second night she'd stayed out. Howard wasn't too surprised. It's one of the many reasons she and his father separated. She loved to be out, having a good time. Howard's father much preferred quiet nights in. Howard was just thankful she had never decided to cheat on his father on those many nights out, as far as he knew.

After that initial invite into his house, it was like some sort of switch had went off. No longer was the trek to Howard's home done in mutual silence; the kid talked so much so quickly it made Howard feel short of breath, expecting the kid to faint from lack of oxygen since he seemed to never pause in his endless prattle. He talked mainly of music, which would've made Howard feel glad, had the genres not been to Howard's distaste. He was back to being the annoying shadow, the fly that wouldn't go away. Only now the fly seemed to have gained the ability to speak.

He also followed Howard into his house every day now. That second day, he had honestly startled Howard. The young man had walked in through his front door and turned to watch the child prance back down the pavement, only to find no kid there. Looking about the yard and street, Howard almost leapt out of his shoes when he caught sight of pink out the corner of his vision. Vince seemed to find this amusing, and he laughed endlessly at the look on Howard's face as he whipped around to face the kid, standing behind him in the front hall.

Mostly they just sat around in his room, Howard spitefully putting on a jazz record every now and again. He was actually surprised that the kid never complained much beyond a withering look, or never outright got up and left, seeing as how he claimed to absolutely loath jazz and all those associated with it. Other times it would just be Vince's voice filling the room. The boy could go on and on for hours unchecked. And though Howard would never admit it, he actually wasn't frustrated by it. Mostly he just sat at his desk or on the bed with the kid and did homework. Or tried to. To be honest, the stories the kid could come up with were pretty interesting. Surreal and more than a bit barking, but Howard found himself looking forward to the end of the day when he could close himself and Vince off into his room and just sit and listen to another of the child's tall tales; watch the way he would motion enthusiastically with his hands, blue eyes bright.

Howard's room was even changing as the days turned into weeks. The kid would sometimes bring something along with him. Just small things, like neon nailpaint when he wanted to change colors while speaking, or cassettes, which he forced Howard to sit and listen to with him on a little player that Vince also brought along with him. And everything he brought he left at Howard's house. Howard thought with some unease that it was almost like the kid was trying to sneak his way into Howard's house, into Howard's life, to settle in and remain there. To never leave.

* * *

"What's that?" Howard asked as he watched Vince tack a paper plate onto Howard's wall. The kid had recently begun 'decorating' Howard's room as he came over. There were now posters of The Who, Hendrix, Tubeway Army, and many others all along his walls. On the back of the paper plate was a painting of what appeared to be a man. A green man, in a top hat with a...mint over one eye.

Vince finished digging the tack into the wall, and stood back to admire the plate, situated above Howard's bedside table. He turned to Howard, sitting beside him on the bed, and Howard recognised the look he got just before he launched into a particularly interesting story.

"That's the Hitcher. You see, when I was about five, there was a playground not too far from here that I loved to play at after school. It was my favorite place in the whole world. I 'specially loved the swings. Anyway, that's where the Hitcher lived. Well, not _in_ the playground, but close. There was a small bit o' forest right next to the slide, and in them trees was a pond. It were a small one; shallow too, and really gross, since people liked to dump their rubbish in it. One time a boy went in the pond on a dare, and got really really ill from it. Imagine that, just from touching the water! Hah! Were me who dared him, but don't go tellin' anyone that. His parents were _furious_, so I hear."

Howard lay back against his pillows, biology essay forgotten, papers falling off his lap and onto the duvet. Vince copied him, leaning against Howard's bedframe and looking down at him from his higher position, a grin at the corner of his mouth, showing white, slightly crooked teeth. Licking his lips, he continued his story, eyes filled with the images of his tale so starkly that Howard could almost see the memories play out through them as Vince's voice once again filled the space between them.

"Well, the man lived in those trees, hidden away from pryin' eyes. But during the daytimes he always hung 'round the edges of the trees, and all us kids ran to the playground after school. He was dressed in, like, these really old rags, like Victorian stuff. He had a dusty top hat, and an old scarf that he wore on his neck in the winter. He loved talking to us kids. He liked hearing about our day at school, how we was doing. Any big exams we had coming up that we forgot to study for. He also had these little mint candies. He never had anything else, just these little white mints that he offered all of us. Never seemed to run out of 'em, though I don't know where he got them all. The man was completely poor. I asked where he came from one time, and he said from all 'round. That he'd traveled the entire'y of Europe by hitch-hiking. He loved to tell stories, too, just like me. I was his favorite, ya see. Told me himself! We'd sit and tell stories back an' forth for hours, until it was so dark out all the others had gone home and the street lights came on. He always asked me to stay on, always wanted me to come over into the trees where his tent was and talk the night away. I nearly _did_ sometimes, but to be honest he got a little scary when it was dark. Something in his face changed. He was nice, though, always loved seeing us kids every day. I didn't stay late every day, though. Some days I had to leave early. It made me sad, cause he was really fun to talk to. He was sad when I had to leave, too. "

Here Howard found himself sitting up, brow furrowed. This kid had to be dense, to not realise what he was saying. It was clear to Howard that this man Vince spoke of was after quite a bit more than friendship, and if Vince still went and spoke with this man Howard would be giving the police a nice phone call, and soon. Then cold dread wound its way into Howard's stomach. Two years ago, this had been. What could've happened in these past two years? What if the man had already done something. Something..._unthinkable_, to this kid? Howard was pulled from his rising terror by Vince's voice.

"Well, one day I went to the playground with the others, and we saw police cars surrounding the entire park, officers all over tha place. The Hitcher was being put into one of 'em. He spotted me just before the car drove off. He smiled at me, and waved, and I waved back, worryin' for 'im. On the telly that night, the news said that the night before two boys were found dead in them trees. You see, they were brothers, twins, and had been missing for a few weeks. The police searched everywhere, and finally found them hidden away in the park. The man went to court, and for _weeks_ it was all anyone would talk about. The twins had only a father, who was mad with sadness, so I'd heard. I still remember his face, on the news. He was talking to a reporter or somethin'. He swore he'd see the Hitcher in prison on a death sentence for taking his boys. He was cryin' an awful lot. I don't think I'd ever seen a grown man cry until then. Didn't think they were able to."

"Vince-"

"But, there was no evidence that it was actually the man who did it. The bodies weren't by his tent or nothin', and they was all rotten by then, and there was no weapon or nothing discovered. The man even gave the police an alibi, that he was with a friend, who worked in some kind of fruit shop or something, the night the police said the boys had to've died. The friend told everyone it was true, and since there was no evidence, they couldn't send him to prison. The dad of the boys was so angry, he actually same flyin' at the man in the middle of the courtroom! Saw it live on telly and everythin'! It was _amazing_. Four guys had to hold him back. Anyway, I still went to the park every day, even though nearly all the other kids stopped. And those that did stayed far from the trees. I didn't mind. Just meant we could have more time to ourselves. I got all the mints then! I love those things. I miss gettin' 'em..."

Vince's smile dropped, and he seemed to fade out altogether for a moment. Before Howard could think to reach over to him, he snapped back to attention, looking Howard in the eyes and continuing his not-so-surreal-but-all-too-real story, not smiling anymore.

"One day I came to the park, and somethin' weird happened. The man wasn't there waiting for me by the slide. He was nowhere! Day after day I went to the playground, and he weren't there nomore. For a while I thought maybe he'd left. Hitched a ride 'cross the country cause of the threats he said he'd been gettin' from locals. Then, one afternoon I decided to go into the trees. I wanted to see if his tent was still up 'n all. Coming to the pond, I saw somethin' in the water. It was a big black lump. It was laid near the edge, so I could stand right next to it without getting in the water me'self. That's when I saw that it was the Hitcher's great long jacket. I crouched down and turned it over, and there was the Hitcher. He was dead, and had been for some time, from how bad he smelled. Oh god, was he a sight! The water 'ad made him go all green and weird looking. The skin 'round his face was all wrinkly, like it was_ really _pruned up. His little white mints had gotten from his pockets and were floating all around him. He also had his left eye all messed up, like someone had popped it right out! It was well gross."

It took Howard a few minutes to realise that Vince had stopped talking, and was now just sitting there looking over at him. Raising his eyebrows at the kid, he leaned forward.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What's the rest of the story?"

The kid grinned, letting out a short laugh, "There is no rest of the story; that's it."

"That can't be it. What about the dead twins, their father? What about this man? What about _you_?"

"Me?"

"Yes! How...what seeing that must've...what did you do? Did you go to the police? Your parents?"

"No. I just stopped going to the park."

It was the way in which the kid said those words that had Howard's spiraling thoughts coming to a complete halt. That utterly flippant way in which he closed the story, that made Howard sit back once more and just study the boy before him. He had a small inkling that this kid might be a bit insane. Or a sociopath. Or he simply didn't grasp the seriousness of everything he had just talked about. Howard decided to take a different approach to his questions, wanting to hear more of this tale even though deep down he wanted to run crying from the room and into his mommy's arms.

"Well. Um. Did it make you sad? That the man you used to talk to was dead?"

"Oh, he's not dead. Well, I mean, he_ is_, but he's still around."

Howard was getting that horror movie sensation again. Resisting the urge to look about the room, he looked directly into Vince's eyes, now shifting closer to the boy.

"What do you mean, _still around_?"

"I mean still around. Out in the streets of London. He's a lot scarier now, though, so I try to avoid 'im a lot. He hasn't visited me in over a year now, so I think he's forgotten about me. But for a while after he died he'd come to see me at my house, when everyone was asleep. He _insisted_ on waking me up almost every night, and wanted to talk for _hours_. I slept a lot in class. Anyway, he was a lot meaner then, too. He didn't tell me cool stories of his adventures nomore; instead it was what he'd been up to on tha' streets. Rapin' and killin' people, he said. When I told him I thought he was lying, because I never saw anythin' about it on the telly, he got real mad and said it were because he was just _that good_ at hiding the bodies, and then he cut me with his knife. On the arm, not really big. But enough to scare me stiff. I hid the cut from teachers and stuff until it was better, since I didn't want anyone knowing he was still around. He was still me best mate, so I _had _to look out for 'im."

Here Vince paused to point behind him up at the painting.

"That's what he looked like after. His skin stayed all green, and he sewed those mint candies on his clothes, even though he never offered me any more to eat, and he had one great big one over his eye. The hurt one. I fin'lly told him one night I didn't wanna see him no more, and closed the window on him. He still came by a lot, bangin' on the window. I'm surprised it never woke anyone up, it was so loud! But, like I said, after a while, he just stopped showin' up. The end."

Now Vince was smiling once more, tacking on those last two words with a cheeky look over at Howard. Howard returned no such look. He was too busy worrying over whether this kid was lying, delusional, in need of quick help, that Hitcher guy_ really had_ survived his ordeal, or, hell, Howard had some kind of freakish zombie situation on his hands.

* * *

It goes without saying that Howard's sleep that night was anything but restful. He felt much like a zombie himself in school the next day, made even worse by the biology essay he had neglected to finish, which was due that very day. He was glad that Vince went back to his more bright, silly stories after that bleak nightmare. He was particularly fond of the ones about Vince's childhood. Laughing at how Vince claimed to have been raised in the jungles of India by Bryan Ferry. Vince became incredibly affronted whenever he sensed that Howard wasn't taking his words seriously, and clammed up the rest of the evening, so Howard learned to keep his skepticism to himself and simply play along.

One afternoon Howard's mother actually stayed in that night, and insisted on cooking the three of them dinner. Howard figured she just wanted to get to know Vince better, seeing as how she'd hardly spoken with the boy since his visits began over two months ago. Isabella got along swimmingly with Vince, to Howard's relief, and the teen contented himself with sitting back with his food and watching Vince and his mother talk about themselves and their likes and dislikes and anything else that came to mind as the afternoon faded into evening.

When Vince finally went home, just as darkness was settling on the horizon, Isabella called Howard into the kitchen. Looking at him with a smile as she washed the dishes, she said to him in a voice filled with approval, "I like this new friend of yours. He's a little eccentric, and a bit young to be hanging around someone ten years his senior, but I know what a good person you are, dear. I daresay you'll be good influences on one another."

With that she turned back to her task. But just as Howard reached the stairs, he heard her voice call out once more, "I've always regretted not giving you a younger sibling. Well, now I can finally put that guilt to rest."

* * *

Before Howard knew it, school was let out for winter holidays. He could breathe a sigh of relief, both that he had a break from classes, and because Howard loved the winter. It just felt so clean and fresh, and he liked seeing his breath ghost out in front of him as he trudged down the street in his long red jacket. It didn't offer as much warmth as his heavy brown coat did, but Howard much preferred this one. It was his grandfather's back in the forties. It had history. Plus he loved the color red.

Behind Howard was Vince, stuffed into his pink pillow of a coat, stepping carefully into the tracks Howard's boots made in the shallow snow and looking positively chuffed about it. If Howard were any other kind of man, he might say the sight was downright _cute_, looking back at the boy lagging behind him. Coming to a curb, Howard stopped to wait for Vince to catch up to him. Once he did Howard took the child by hand and crossed the street carefully. That's what you were supposed to do, right? Take a child's hand before crossing a street with them. The boy wasn't making any protest so Howard supposed he was doing it right.

When they reached the edge of the park the boy dropped Howard's hand, which he previously had refused to release, and stood there silently. Howard had expected this, and looked down at Vince, who was staring off into the distance, at the playground that could be seen near the small forest. He looked accusingly up at Howard, who was sure his mouth was drawn down in a frown, even though most of his face was covered by a cream scarf Howard had wound around him before they'd set off.

"Hold on, now. We're just going to the museum. I read that there was one in the park. It's somewhere in the middle, I think. Does this park have a map somewhere? It's bigger than I thought."

Vince visibly relaxed his arms and shoulders, and then lead the way with confidence, keeping a distance from the playground where children could be heard playing, and on to a concrete path. From here they walked deeper into the park, more and more clusters of trees surrounding them as they went. Eventually they did find a large map placed in a wooden stand.

"Never been to a museum."

That was all Vince offered as Howard scanned the map's many sites before finally recognising the name of their destination. It wasn't much further ahead, and the two arrived there in less than ten minutes. Little did Howard know that he would be learning a very valuable lesson this day. A lesson that sad to say many parents learn the hard way as well. _Never _bring small children to boring places.

Fifteen minutes and nine exhibits in had Vince was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Silent, but his fidgeting about in Howard's periphery was a little annoying. He tried to focus harder on the display before them. It was some sort of abstract painting that its plaque said represented the conflict and decline of modern culture in that of Europe and even the world. Howard thought it just looked like a bunch of colorful scribbles. The kind of thing he'd expect Vince to latch onto like a leech. But the boy wasn't biting. Not even close. He'd given the painting a few seconds of his time and then immediately got involved with exercising his feet muscles.

As the minutes passed and they made their slow route around the circular layout of the building, Vince went from rocking silently back and forth to shifting noisily, then came the quiet humming which evolved into quick pacing, and somewhere along the line Howard turned around to check on Vince only to see that the boy had gone and _climbed_ onto one of the statues.

Trying not to curse out loud (the kid was bad enough!) Howard darted over to him, arms outstretched as if that would do much good from metres away. He was up quite high, nearly to the top of the thing, and Howard could just imagine the little wretch loosing his footing and cracking his head on the hard tile below.

"_Come down here!_" He grit out between his teeth. He didn't want to attract the guards' attention. They were lucky there was no one in this section. Yet.

Vince seemed to notice him for the first time, so wrapped up he was in whatever world the little blighter lived in. Howard could_ tan him alive_, he could! Gah! He should've known better than to expect the chatter-box to stay obedient and out of trouble for more than three seconds with priceless pieces lying about.

Vince was making his careful way back down, and every time his polka-dotted sneakers slipped slightly or he readjusted his hold on a crevice Howard's arms twitched, still open wide directly underneath the boy, like a landing trampoline with one big hole in the middle.

When Vince was close enough Howard plucked him off the marble and carried him, hands gripping under his armpits, over to a wall. Howard felt for a moment he might give the child a few well-deserved smacks, but held himself in check. He wasn't the boy's father. But that didn't keep him from kneeling down to eye-level to give the boy a scathing look.

"_Just what was that?_ Who said you could go traipsing on the artwork? These things are expensive, Vince! Don't do that again!"

Vince watched his shoes the entire time Howard ranted at him, trying to keep his voice low and level. He seemed quite put off when Howard got authoritive toward him, and if Howard didn't know any better, he'd say the boy wasn't sure how to handle himself, how to respond. As if the kid had never been reprimanded before. He also got quite tense any time Howard raised his voice above his normal tone, even if it wasn't in anger. His eyes would flick from the floor to Howard's hands, especially if they did anything aside from hang at Howard's sides.

Howard purposely raised a hand to slide across his mouth, testing his hypothesis. Sure enough, Vince's eyes shot up and followed the limb until Howard settled both hands on his hips, looking down at the boy, no longer in anger but curiosity. He wasn't the boy's father, but he certainly wanted to meet the man. Now more than ever.

Deciding to cut the trip short, Howard stood up again and took the boy's hand, more as a show that he wasn't angry anymore than for traffic safety, and led the way back to the entrance. The front of the museum, which Howard had practically raced through in his excitement to get inside, was a lovely little garden, filled with hedges sculptured to look like animals doing crazy little poses. Vince brightened considerably as he released Howard's hand to walk up to one, darting a quick look at Howard before slowly reaching out a hand and running it lightly through the surface leaves of one hedge shaped like an elephant. Howard sighed as he took his time catching up to Vince; the kid always did this as well. Treating Howard a bit like an alien any time he got cross with him. Howard was more curious than ever to pester the boy with questions on his home life. But any time the subject was brought up Vince either changed the subject or clammed up completely.

Standing a small distance from Vince to give him his desired space, Howard watched as he ran from hedge to hedge, petting each statue and speaking to them in low words that Howard couldn't make out. After a while, Vince seemed to have settled back to his normal self, making his way back to where Howard stood beside the elephant. Just as Howard was going to suggest they leave, Vince plopped right down in the thick grass on his back. Luckily the snow seemed to have been cleared from the front of the museum, so Howard didn't worry _so_ much as he looked down on the boy, who smiled up at him.

"What's your favorite animal? I love elephants. I can do a right mean impression, wanna hear?"

Without waiting for Howard's replies to his questions, Vince put both hands to his face and did a rather crude impression of an elephant bellow. It was so bad and shoddy and utterly _insanely _adorable that Howard found himself sitting on the grass as well, holding his sides as he laughed loudly. Vince grinned back, staring up at the white sky as he moved his arms back and forth a few times, though there was no snow to make angels in. Howard finally calmed enough to answer Vince, a smile still in his voice.

"My favorite animals is...I'd have to say a cat. Or something. Not really sure, never had a pet before."

"Cats are good. There used to be a stray one that I'd feed the extra food I didn't eat, but that was a while back. It stopped showing up one day."

Howard looked down at the boy, putting to memory the image of him, scarf up over his mouth and nose, overwhelmed by pink and overshadowed by a gigantic elephant hedge. Howard Moon realised then and there that he had grown quite fond of this little pink nightmare. Aside from the endless chatter and rule disobeying, the kid was alright.

They opted to just walk aimlessly around the park for the remainder of the day, keeping an exceptional distance from the playground, which Howard felt a bit of a pang for. As appalled by the story as Howard was, he was also terribly curious. He really wanted to go into that small forest and see for himself the site of Vince's story. He imagined it would feel like stepping into a movie or a storybook. But the memory of how distressed Vince had looked when he'd thought Howard would be taking him there kept him from suggesting they go take a look. He instead pushed such thoughts away and focused on the boy behind him, once again trying to walk literally in Howard's footsteps. Howard took extra-long strides, just so he could have the amusement of watching the boy attempt to jump from imprint to imprint, missing most of the time.


	4. Chapter 4

BLARGHARAGHAR: Yay for posting early! Now this chapter is a bit short, and quite a lot goes down in it. I'd like to say before you read that this chapter is inspired by a part of The Mighty Book of Boosh. If you've read the book, you'll know it when you come to it.

Chapter 4

Howard was startled out of a jazz trance one late afternoon while his mother was out god-knows-where. Irritated and confused as to what had interrupted him, he stood in silence in his bedroom, turning off the record player, listening. That's when he heard a large thump in the sitting room. Panic seeped in as Howard imagined some chav, or another cockney asshole from school breaking into his house. Howard grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, his acoustic, and eased his bedroom door open. Howard could hear no other sounds from downstairs, but this did little to ease his racing thoughts. Descending the stairs, wincing at every creak, Howard looked about the front hall. Seeing nothing, he carefully inched his way to the entrance of the sitting room, and immediately dropped his guitar.

There indeed _was_ a cockney in his home, and it was a very familiar one. The window was wide open, and on the floor lay Vince, appearing to be unconscious. Rushing to kneel by the kid's side, Howard leaned over him, calling out the boy's name. On his third shout Vince stirred slightly, opening his eyes and looking about himself in a daze. He seemed confused as to how he had ended up in Howard's house of all places, and looked to Howard as if he had the answer.

"Vince! Vince, can you hear me? It's Howard. Why are you here? What's wrong? Let's get you up off the floor, yeah?"

Howard grabbed under Vince's shoulders and began to lift him into a sitting position. He got barely halfway when Vince let out a high shriek, causing Howard to drop him, which in turn released another cry from Vince, who was screwing his eyes shut and digging his palms into the wooden floor.

"What's the matter? _Vince! Tell me what's wrong!_" Howard knew he was practically screeching, but couldn't seem to control the rising pitch and volume of his voice.

After a few shallow breathes, Vince looked up at Howard, who was struck down completely as the shock finally faded and the sight before him sunk in. Vince looked unimaginably tiny, laying across the floor, breathing shallowly as tears swam in his eyes. Panic was brusquely pushed aside as something else strode forward in Howard's mind. It was almost a kind of paternal instinct Howard never knew he possessed, and yet it thrummed loudly in his chest. When he spoke next, he was surprised at how steady he was able to keep his voice.

"Vince, I need you to tell me where you're hurt. Or at least point."

Vince stared up at him for a few moments, seeming as shocked as Howard at his transformation. Then, with a shaky hand he ghosted across his hips and up over his left side. Howard mentally cursed his mother and her late nights out, and vowed at that moment to get a vehicle of his own. Fortunately the local A&E was not too far away; maybe twenty minutes, Howard estimated.

Picking the child up as gently as he could, Howard cringed at every noise of pain the kid made as Howard held him close and stood up.

Ten minutes later and halfway to the hospital, Howard was attempting to walk swiftly and evenly at the same time. He didn't want to jostle Vince too much, and yet panic was creeping back in to freeze over Howard's chest as the kid seemed to get quieter and more still in his arms.

_'Keep him awake!'_

"Vince, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?"

Vince didn't open his eyes, but his mouth shifted, as if he were trying to find the right words. Then suddenly, he was looking Howard in the eyes, and talking in a small, tired voice.

"It was the crocodile. Bumba. He was jealous of me."

They walked in silence after that, Howard unsure of how to respond to this obvious lie, or the delusion of a dying child.

* * *

Several hours later found Howard being escorted by a nurse into Vince's room. The strange foreign surge of paternal protectiveness that had dimmed during Howard's wait hummed back to life as he beheld the sight of the small sleeping child surrounded by pillows. Everything seemed to swallow his bony form, from the hospital gown to the thin blanket pulled over him.

A broken hip and punctured left lung, as well as some bruising and rope burn along his neck. From what the doctors could gather, it looked as if someone had attacked the child, and then attempted to hang him. Horror churned in Howard's stomach as he mulled over these findings. So many questions were practically beating down the walls of his skull. He settled himself in the chair placed by Vince's bedside, and tried not to count the hours as the night aged and Howard's eyes dragged down heavier and heavier.

* * *

The first thing Howard became aware of was the sensation of someone lightly messing with his hair. Acting on instinct, he pulled slightly away, muttering a "don't touch me" as the sleep fell completely from him, leaving a crick in his neck and a sense of alert as the events of last night clattered down around him. Jerking upright, he looked over to see Vince laying in his bed, blankets bunched up in his lap, exposing his feet and bony knees. He looked up at the teenager mutely, face blank, hand retracted from Howard and lying limply at his side. Howard fumbled about mentally for something to say to dispel the silence.

"So, uh, how are you feeling, Little Man?"

_'What the hell?'_

Howard felt his face heat up. That's what his mother used to call him until he was about five. He'd not even thought of the old pet name in over ten years, let alone consciously use it.

Either Vince didn't hear him, or he was skillfully hiding his reaction, because his face remained impassive, not replying to Howard's question. Probably didn't hear, then. What kind of painkillers did they have the kid on, anyway?

Howard decided to start over; so, clearing his throat, he carried on in a slightly louder tone.

"How are you feeling, Vince?"

"Okay."

Well, at least it was a reply.

"Are you in any pain? Tired?"

"No. Yes."

Howard was a little worried. This couldn't be the same boy who previously talked both his ears off. The one-word replies were slightly offsetting.

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Who did this to you, Vince. Please tell me."

A deep breath, then, "I told you already. The crocodile did it. He's a film star. I was working for his director, but then the director wanted to make a new movie about_ me _instead. Bumba didn't like that. So he killed the director and then tried to kill me."

Howard let out a long slow sigh, trying to dredge up some patience. That's the same story he fed the doctors. Howard had spent nearly an hour with a waiting room full of baffled and suspicious medical staff, attempting desperately to explain. They had yet to phone the police, but made it clear that Howard needed to get the full story from the child.

"Vince, you can tell me the truth. It's just_ me_. It's just Howard. What happened?"

"I _told_ you, I worked fo-"

Howard stood noisily from his chair and began pacing about the room. This anger that coursed through him was frightening, and he fought to calm down and not reach out and shake the child.

"_Vince._ The doctors need to know. The police will be phoned._ I _need to know. What. Happened." He stood now at the foot of the bed, hands clutching the bed rail, staring the child in the eyes, searching his blue irises for the answers Howard desperately needed. All he needed was a name. A description. And he would...what? A mental image played through Howard's head of himself launching from the hospital doors, racing through the streets until he spotted the culprit. This tattooed, thuggish image of a monster stood across the street from Howard, who marched gallantly forward and- oh who was he fooling? Howard had about the same muscle mass as the kid before him. He was beating the shit out of no one. But he still needed, _yearned _to know. He had to know.

Vince was mute once more. Seeming just as frustrated as Howard. His jaw clenched slightly, and he moved his eyes to gaze dully out the window. He was clamming up, it seemed.

Howard stood straight, raking his hand through his hair and across his mouth, feeling stubble scrape against his fingers. He wondered distantly if the hospital store sold razors. He really needed a good washing up; he felt awful. Looking around the room, Howard forced his mind back to the situation at hand. He wanted so badly to repeat the questions at Vince. _What happened? Who did this to you? What happened? What happened?_ But he felt that he'd get the same answer in reply each and every time. He was actually impressed that Vince had kept his story so straight. He doubted the kid recalled most of last night, much less some on-the-fly fable about a celebrity croc.

Howard conceded defeat by muttering that he would be by to see Vince tomorrow, and walked from the room, leaving his red jacket behind on the chair and an unreadable expression on Vince's face. He was paying such intense attention to the tiles on the floor that he almost collided with one of the doctors from his impromptu interrogation a century or two ago. The man apologised absently, reading a chart. Howard almost stepped around him, but the doctor recognised Howard, and quickly guided him to a secluded corner with a firm hand to the shoulder.

Howard could have stamped his feet in frustration. He just wanted to go home! He was so tired of these doctors and their questions. The man adjusted his glasses, looking at Howard with the same mixed look of suspicion, sympathy, and confusion that Howard had grown accustomed to and then sick of in the past hours.

"So? Has he told you what happened? His injuries are very bizarre, especially the markings on his neck."

"No. He...he hasn't said anything to me. I don't know why." Howard sighed, feeling anger and something akin to betrayal flush through him. He wanted to march back into that little brat's room and shake the answers out of him! The doctor also huffed in exasperation, making Howard feel slightly better that he wasn't alone in this battle for clarity.

"Well, we're going to bring an officer by tomorrow to speak with him. Maybe he'll realise the weight of the situation and be honest with us then. Are you going to be visiting again? We've notified his guardians but they've not come by."

"Yeah, I'll be back tomorrow. Wait, what? Guardians?"

"Yes. Didn't you know? Says here on his files. He's one of three adopted children by a Mr and Mrs Lambert." There was the mixed look again, and Howard had to look away in embarrassment at how little he knew about his _friend._

Hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere, Howard asked, "How long is he going to be here? How long until he's better?"

"Well, he'll have to be here about 2 months. He can then go home, but he'll probably need help to walk for at least another few weeks."

Howard nodded, then was urged to meet the doctors eyes as he leaned in, lowering his voice, face a mask of seriousness and something that reminded Howard of how his mother looked that time he broke his leg climbing a tree.

"I hope either the officer or you can get the truth out of him. We_ need _to find the guy who did this quickly, because between you and me, any person who's gonna hang a seven-year-old needs to be put away for a good long time."

With that the doctor moved away and continued down the hallway, once again immersed in his clipboard. Howard watched him turn a corner, and then picked up his own pace out of the hospital's front doors and slowly down the street, the early morning air greeting him.

* * *

Stumbling through his front door, Howard's plan of climbing into bed and not seeing daylight for at least a week was botched by his mother, bounding in from the kitchen to exclaim loudly over her son.

_'Oh, right. Forgot to phone her.'_

"Where have you been?! I come home to find you nowhere in sight; the window wide open. I thought for sure some punks got in! I was only a few minutes away from calling the police!"

_'Few minutes? She must've just gotten home an hour ago, then. Damn, seems we've both had long nights.'_

"I was at the hospital, Mom. Sorry. I forgot to call." Stepping out of his shoes, Howard began slumping up the stairs slowly. Why did he feel so worn out? All he'd done was power-walk with a kid on him for a few streets. Now he felt about forty. His legs ached as he climbed the first few steps. Better make that forty-five.

"_Hospital_? Why, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" His mother and her questions trailed after him as he ascended.

"I'm fine. Vince is the one who's hurt. I took him to the hospital last night."

"Vince? Oh, what happened? Is he alright?"

"He'll be alright, the doctors say. I'm going back to see him tomorrow."

"Wait, where are you going? Today's a school day; it's already 11:30."

"I'm staying home today."

With that Howard shut his room door on his mother's worried gaze and collapsed onto his bed, almost instantly deep asleep.

(hehehe the Lambert thing is half joke for my friend, and half because Lambert means 'bright' while Noir, Vince's birth surname, means 'dark'. And also, when Howard's mom shouts "Where have you been" I honestly got the best mental image of Molly Weasley. HAH)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Howard's dreams were haunted by a dark shadowed figure, all muscle and smoke, dangling a rope out of one hand and a stanley in the other. Waking up at about two in the morning, Howard tried to spend his time until school strumming away on his guitar, which he'd fetched from downstairs. He couldn't work out a tune, however, just pointless notes, not at all flowing together, but coming out a garbled mess. Huffing, he tossed it to the floor and simply laid back, staring at nothing. Staring at the mental image of Vince in the hospital bed. Vince in his arms as he sweated and practically jogged through the streets at night. Vince laying below a hedge looking up at him. Vince outside his school, smiling and waving his hands animatedly whilst spinning another one of his tales.

By the time Howard was showered and dressed for school, he felt half mad. All he could think about was the kid. Fuck school, he wanted to go dashing down the street toward the hospital. He wanted to make sure Vince was okay. That he hadn't gotten worse. That he wasn't dead. He wanted to comfort him. He wanted to interrogate the hell outta the little creep so he'd spill about who the hell had put him in the hospital in the first place!

All these spiraling thoughts and emotions were so foreign to Howard that he honestly didn't know what to do, aside from commit himself. He blamed it on never having been around younger children. Even in his old neighborhood, the few people Howard could loosely call his 'friends' had all been either his age or older. He'd simply never given any of the younger years a thought whilst in school. He didn't have any cousins to speak of, either. All his uncles never had kids. He was the only child of the family. So this was what it felt like, then? Howard marveled at how older siblings didn't simply go mad from the stress. How parents could sleep at night knowing their child was in another room away from them, possibly having nightmares, possibly crying or hurt or missing them or being suffocated by their duvet or maybe that thug had come to the hospital to finish the job! Heart hammering in his chest, Howard strode toward the school, pointedly_ not _looking over at the second building, and tried to shut his mind off.

School passed by in a blur for Howard. He'd succeeded, mostly, in shutting his brain off. Problem was, he did it backwards. He couldn't focus on anything. Not on the other students, not on his subjects. He couldn't even hear what the teacher was saying. It was just a noise. The only thing he could focus on was..._guess_. Vince? Yep. You win. Howard slouched down in his chair, wallowing in self-pity at what this child had done to his brain. He could almost say he hated the kid for it. Almost.

* * *

The final bell was like the sound of a starter pistol to Howard. He was out the classroom, down the hall, round the corner and through the front doors so fast he practically made the floor tiles spin. The only stop he made was at his house, to toss his bag in the door and then shut it loudly, not caring if it disturbed anyone. _Sod them. Sod them all!_ He had a hospital room to leg it to!

Panting as he made his way to the receptionist desk, the woman behind the counter almost had a doctor called for him, thinking he was having an asthma attack. He waved her down and simply stated that he was there for Vince Noir. Not waiting to hear her reply he fast-walked down the hallways, and by memory made it to Vince's room. Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of Vince laying in pretty much the same position as he'd last seen him. The blankets covered him fully yet again, and there was something else. Something off. _Oh_. The kids was crying. Well, he had been. Or was at least trying really really hard not to. There were no tears, but his eyes were red and his face flushed slightly.

Howard stood poised halfway in the room, arm frozen uncomfortably behind him where he had been closing the door. After a second of utter stillness between the two of them, Howard closed the door the rest of the way with a soft click and came to sit in the chair near Vince.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting? You can always ask the doctors if you need more painkillers. I'm sure they'd give you more."

Vince simply shook his head at Howard, not looking him in the face, but watching his hands as they fumbled about in his lap.

"Did you have a nightmare? Did someone scare you? Was someone in here who scared you?"

_'Easy, Moon. Don't let the kid know how stark raving mad you are just yet.'_

"Yeah, there was." Came the small reply.

_'Fuck. Fuck, I knew it. I fucking knew it. I'll kill 'em. That cockney prick thinks he can just waltze right in here and hurt Vince? Well Howard Moon's here now! Watch out you slimey git! Where's he gone? I bet he'll be back. Well, I'm not leaving this spot, no sir! I'll be ready and waiting to pounce soon as he shows his ugly mug back through that door.'_

Howard stood from his chair, feeling less like the pathetic weakling he was and more like a momma lioness about to kick some ass.

"Where is he then? Did he hurt you? Have you told the doctors?"

Vince's eyebrows drew downward in confusion.

"The doctors sent him in. And no, he didn't hurt me. Just had a lot of stupid questions."

"...Pardon?" Now they _both _were confused.

"The officer. He was just here, 'bout ten minutes ago. He was here _forever_, prattlin' on and on about how it was bad to lie about this kinda thing, and how I could be in _big trouble _for not tellin' the truth. Only I am! I am tellin' the truth but he wouldn't 'ave it, he just kept on asking questions and tellin' me off for being uncop-uncoop'rative!"

Vince let out a shaky breath as he vented his obvious anger, seeming to want to cross his arms but not doing so, as that would jolt his ribs. His jaw was clenched once more, and Howard mentally cringed at how he must be grinding his teeth.

Bravado now lost, Howard deflated back down into his chair, feeling sort of like a momma hen now. Fussing and worrying over her chick, but powerless to actually do much in case some big fucking wolf decided to have a snack.

So a police officer had come by earlier, while Howard was in school. And Vince had told him his farce about the crocodile. And he had even gotten upset that his words weren't believed. That was it then. The kid wasn't lying. He wasn't making it up. The kid was insane.

Howard had never known anyone truly insane before. Except for maybe his distant uncle Pedro, whom he'd heard stories of since he was a little boy. And now here he was, sitting next to a delusional seven-year-old. Who swore up and down that it was a moviestar crocodile who'd hung him and left him to die.

There are very few moments in one's life when they reach a crossroads, and are able to see both choices laid out plainly before them. The road to the left meant simply sticking around and enjoying the ride. The right road entailed flinging open the door and sprinting down the hall, preferably screaming; forever washing his hands of this future psychopath.

As Howard stood before these two roads, attempting to stare down them and see the future that lay ahead of each, the choice was made for him. Vince let out a small sniffle, which he immediately tried to muffle by putting his hand over his nose and mouth. Howard was suddenly back in the room, with Vince laying before him with his eyes clamped shut, trying visibly not to cry, face scrunched up in a grimace.

Mouth open but no words able to come out, Howard sought desperately for a way of keeping the kid from crying. He sure as _hell _wasn't ready for a sobbing child just yet. Leaning forward, he rested his hand lightly over Vince's.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright. You'll not go to prison, if that's what you're afraid of. They can't lock you up simply because they don't like your story. C'mon, it'll all be better. _Little Man_." He purposely tacked that on at the end. Not really certain why, but wanting to gauge a reaction from the kid. He got one.

Red-rimmed eyes flew open to meet his own. He'd _definitely _heard him that time. Only Howard's plan to keep Vince from crying backfired spectacularly. At the nickname, the kid clamped his right hand harder over his mouth, muffling sobs as best he could while screwing his eyes shut once more, tears now falling freely down his pale cheeks. Ready or not, Howard was in a room with a sobbing child.

Howard felt terrible and confused. Had he upset him? Dammit! He'd meant the nickname to be soothing, not send the boy into a fit! He couldn't be in the room. He was no good with emotion, especially strong ones that radiated off of other people. But as he drew his hand away he was surprised to find it trapped in a vice grip. Feeling slightly like a fox caught in a claw trap, Howard once again leaned forward against the bed and stared at the sheets while the child cried himself out. He still had so many questions for this kid. First and foremost along the lines of where the hell his family was! He supposed that to get those answers he'd just have to tough it out and wait for the tears to stop.

* * *

They did stop, after about two hours straight. Once the kid started it was like Pandora's box. He just couldn't stop. Howard could see that he was making the effort to control himself, but even as the outright sobs abated, he went on hiccuping and whimpering for a good solid thirty minutes. If Howard didn't feel so much like chewing his arm off, he'd say that he was impressed. _He'd_ certainly never cried that long. In fact, Howard supposed he hadn't shed an actual tear since he was nine, with the whole tree-leg-break incident.

Just as Howard pulled himself from his happy place where'd he'd been camping for about an hour now to begin his long list of questions for the kid, he found that Vince was already half-asleep. Eyes drooping downward, making a weak attempt to wipe his nose on his wrist. Howard pulled his hand slowly from the kid's, who no longer had the energy to keep hold, and went into the room's toilet to fetch paper and offer them silently to Vince. Taking them, he blew his nose repeatedly, setting the soiled towels on the bedside table and looking over to Howard once more. Eyes now very red and puffy, and closing every few seconds, only to be forced back open again.

Howard smiled down at the kid, both to reassure Vince (and himself) that he wasn't about to take the right road, not anymore, and because he couldn't help but feel a sort of fond amusement at watching the child struggle against sleep.

Howard marveled at how south everything had gone in such a short amount of time. The injuries, the hospital, the monster roving the streets freely, the massive fit just a minute ago. And yet, things must not have fallen_ that _far, since Howard could still see a long way down; a lot of alternate possibilities, ones he shuddered at. A dead child. A monster come to finish what he started. And yet Howard could also see the top of the mountain peak above them. He was going to get to that peak, and he was going to drag this child along with him. Howard reaffirmed his earlier vow to get his own car. He also promised himself then and there to get a job, to finish school with passing grades, and to keep watch over this little bundle of mayhem under a blond wig.

The child was now fast asleep, and Howard practically guffawed at the sounds of snoring coming from the kid. Far too loud and obnoxious to be coming out of that small adorable heap. Wait, did he just say adorable? Now _he_ was insane. Maybe he and the kid could get a joined padded cell when they were sent down river.

Howard suddenly recalled his red jacket he had left on this very chair yesterday. Where was it? Had a nurse nicked it? More than a little annoyed (he loved that jacket!) Howard looked about the room for the first time since he'd entered it. His roving eyes came to a halt when they landed on the tiniest strip of red fabric showing beneath Vince's duvet. Careful not to wake the child, Howard lifted a corner to see his jacket. The kid had draped it over himself like another blanket, hiding it away from prying eyes under the hospital blankets. Not wanting to wake the boy with any attempts to retrieve the clothing, Howard simply resolved to get it back the next day, and tucked the duvet back around Vince. He very quietly exited the room, being sure to close the door with barely a sound.

That night he had a dream where Vince was an adult patient in a mental asylum, surrounded by various people telling jokes and shelling out punchlines. Vince himself was obsessing over his artwork, forever mourning the loss of his puppet-making tools.

(alright, I think I may have painted Howard a bit too strongly in this. But I'm gonna stand by it, cause Howard is a very passionate person, and he doesn't do anything half-assed. He may think of himself as calculated and even-minded, but he's actually driven by emotion more so than Vince.)


	6. Chapter 6

BEEPBOOP: Hope no one had issues with the damn album thingy, cause I sure did O_o making that stupid thing was hell. Anyway, enjoy. It's rather short, but trust me when I say these chapters will get much longer.)

Chapter 6

Howard visited Vince every single day after school, and on the weekends he simply spent the entire day there, bringing with him various jazz magazines, which Vince would winge and fake-vomit over, which in turn caused Howard to get slightly cross and offended and finally just up and tell Vince that if he was enjoying his company _that little _then he had better ways to spend his time! The look on Vince's face as he made to leave the room halted both Howard's steps and his heartbeat. Sighing, he sat back down in his chair, and an awkward silence enveloped them for the rest of the visit. It was soon pushed aside and forgotten by the next day, however.

A little over a week into Vince's stay at the Medical Centre, Howard came through the room door to see Vince holding a chart, like the ones outside each patients' rooms. His own chart, most likely. Howard wouldn't put it past the kid to knick his or even other patients' charts out of boredom, though how he'd managed it with being bed-bound, Howard was puzzled over. Sitting down in the now familiar chair, the teenager sat in silence, watching the kid's eyes flick about over the chart for several minutes. His face was unreadable, and Howard leaned forward slightly to catch a glimpse of what had the boy's attention so captured. Vince however tilted the chart away from Howard, who leaned further, aggravated now. Vince, still staring at the chart, but now with a small smirk, tilted the chart further to the side. Howard began to lean further, then realised how childish he must look, practically laid out across the bed, and quickly straightened up in his chair. Vince smiled up at him, finally making eye contact.

"What's your blood-type?"

That question took Howard less than a second to answer. The day after his seventeenth birthday his mother took him and herself to donate their blood at the health centre in Leeds. Howard remembered how he had sweated so heavily his clothing stuck to the medical chair when he was finally allowed to rise. It's not that he was _afraid_ of needles. It's just that what that woman had used on him was clearly not a simple needle. A dagger, more like! He swore up and down that he heard a metallic noise like that of an unsheathing sword when the lady uncapped the thing! His mother, on the car-ride home, told Howard both of their blood-types. Howard, though practically seeing stars and leant up against the passenger window, recalled what his was.

"It's type A."

Vince broke out into a wide grin, voice rising, "That's mine too!"

Howard smiled back at the kid as he shifted about in his bed out of pure happiness at this newfound knowledge.

_'Figures.'_

"It's like we're related. Like brothers." That smile was beginning to rival the brightness of the lightbulbs above them.

"Yeah, except not really, because we don't share the same genetics." Howard couldn't help but point out.

_'Heaven forbid I be blood-related to this headcase.'_

Howard's words had no effect on Vince, who continued to smile up at him, setting the chart front-down on his bedside table. Curiosity surged strongly through Howard, wondering why Vince didn't appear to want him to read the chart. He shrugged off the suspicion after a moment; it's just the kid, he's doing weird things like that all the time.

Besides, Howard planned on asking Vince about his parents, or lack thereof. No, that sounded awful. Truth be told, Howard had been putting this off. He really couldn't handle another water display from Vince. Not for at least ten years. But he couldn't fight his curiosity. Clearing his throat, then leaning forward in his chair, putting his hands to rest on the bed, then clasping them in his lap, then licking his lips, then looking at the kid, then all about the room, then-

_'Aw hell, Moon, just ask the damn question! The worst you'll get is no answer at all. Man up!'_

Howard looked the kid in the eyes again, gaze moving all over his face, and landing on his eyes once more as his voice came out quiet and hesitant.

"Vince. Um, I was wondering- I mean, I have a question for you."

Here he paused to give Vince (himself) a moment.

"I, er, the doctors, they told me that...that you were from an...adopted family? Is that true? Why did you never tell me?"

Adopted family. Was that the right word to use? Ah, damn. Now Howard had gone and made a big deal out of it. It was nothing, really. Kids were adopted all the time. And he hadn't meant to sound so wounded on that last question, and kind of regretted it. Vince's face froze up for a moment, then went apathetic, and he answered in an airy tone that Howard had never heard him use before.

"Yeah, I've lived there since I was five. 's alright."

"Well, um...what happened to your parents?" Howard winced, _really _regretting that one.

"I don't know. I've been an orphan since I can remember."

"Then...where did you live before you were five?"

"With Bryan Ferry."

"Vince..." Howard closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. He _swore_ if this child wasn't insane and was just kidding around with all these stories of his, Howard would strangle him. This was no longer funny. This was no longer interesting. This was no longer what Howard wanted to hear. He was done with Vince's stories; he wanted the truth.

Looking up he noticed a slight reticent look come into Vince's eyes. Seeing this as sign that the boy might actually cough up the truth, Howard repeated his earlier question, trying to keep some measure of allay in his tone.

Vince just looked up at him, mouth drawn in a tight line. Looking away from Howard, his voice came out small and sad, "You don't believe me. I keep telling everyone the truth, but they just look at me funny, like you are now. I thought you _believed_ me, when I told you about my life in the jungle, but you don't...do you?"

Once again Howard was looking down those two crossroads. He had a sinking feeling that he would be finding himself at this fork quite often in the coming months, years, life.

Howard also noticed the slightly hopeful hitch in Vince's voice at those last two syllables. Perhaps...just maybe if Howard played along, he might be able to deduce what he could from Vince's stories, and just piece them all together like a puzzle. Howard felt forty-five again; he wasn't cut out for this. This wasn't some mystery novel, and he wasn't a detective by any means, but if there _were_ in fact elements of truth amid this child's ramblings, perhaps he could weed them out. Howard Moon had just added another life mission to his now rapidly growing mental list of missions he had set for himself. Just under 'get a car' was now scrawled 'learn the truth about Vince through the elaborate metaphors his delusional mind conjures in lieu of reality'. It took up the entire bottom of the page; Howard would need to flip it and write any future aspirations on the back.

"No, Vince. I _do_ believe you." Howard began, filling his voice with as much sincerity as he could. At Vince's skeptical look, Howard garnered a look of interest and trust, and hoped to god it got the kid talking again. He had a feeling that if he let the child clam up this time, he wouldn't be over it the next day.

"It-it's just that. Your stories are quite...unbelievable. _But _I do think that you're telling the truth (_'not a total lie; Vince does seem to believe himself'_) and I'd like to hear more of your life in India. C'mon, you _never_ run out of cool tales of all the animals you lived with. Why don't you tell me a story about Ferry; what's he like? Was he a good father?"

Vince smiled slightly, his face still holding suspicion, but after a few minutes of tense silence he visibly shoved it aside and replaced it with a completely sanguine expression.

"I don't wanna talk about Bryan. How about I tell you the story of the three hyena brothers? They were called Katili, Nuka, and Futagi, and they used to run wild through the jungle at night, rampaging and ravin' into the early hours of the morning. Some nights, when I would sneak out and go walking around, I'd see them. I always stayed far enough away so they couldn't see or smell me. You see, they were _very_ dangerous, and anyone who got too close usually ended up with a beatin', or worse."

"Vince, I...I'd much rather hear about Ferry. He seems really interesting. I-"

"_Howard_."

Howard felt a spark of static pass through him, up his arms, spidering over his ribcage. This might just be the first time Vince ever used his name. He couldn't recall Vince ever saying it before. Funny, in that harsh accent of the boy's, his name didn't sound so plain anymore. Howard regained his senses again in time to hear the rest of Vince's sentence.

"That's another story for another time. Right now I wanna talk about the hyena brothers. Now do you wanna hear the story or not?"

Howard nodded enthusiastically, wanting to laugh at how authorative and adult Vince sounded as he looked up at Howard with eyebrows raised. Howard felt a bit like a tot at story time, begging for a favorite tale out of a humoring grandfather. Vince grinned and continued along where he left off, eyes once again becoming like a film projector, and Howard could practically see the imagery dancing about in the air between them.

"One night, right after my fourth birthday, I decided to go out and see the beautiful Tristis flowers. You see, they only bloom at night. Plus, I liked the jungle at night. It was very peaceful, and since most of the animals were asleep I almost had the whole place to meself! I never let Bryan know that I was sneaking out. He'd be _well furious_. He was the one who warned me away from the brothers; that they were nothin' but bad news. And Bryan was right. So, there I was, sittin' amoung the Tristis in a tiny little clearing, when I heard screaming, not too far off. Sounded like one hell of a fight was goin' on, so I went toward the sounds as quietly as I could. There, just beyond the giant rocks, were the brothers. They were surroundin' a lioness. It was weird, because usually the lionesses stayed together, 'specially if they were out at night. But the brothers had found one alone, I guess, and they was attacking her. I'd never seen anyone get killed before, but those brothers killed that lioness. Killed her right there next to the rocks, and laughed while they did it. You know, big loud hyena laughin'. Right scary, it was. I weren't sticking around, so I turned and ran. I ran all the way back to Bryan's house, and after I snuck back into my bed I just laid there. I couldn't sleep. I just kept hearin' the brothers' laughin'. After that, any time I saw the brothers, even if it was in daylight, I turned tail and ran my ass far away til I couldn't run no more."

Howard, still not used to the abrupt way in which Vince liked to end his stories, sat there in silence until he managed to gather his thoughts. He much preferred Vince's happier stories, like the one he had about the cockateil that taught him how to sing, or of his adopted brother, Culto the horse, whom he'd sing the day away with. But these darker fables of Vince's seemed to hold more elements of reality in them.

This was all completely backward to the way Howard had been raised. Reality. That's what Howard had been taught to rely on. Not singing horses and Indian jungles and being brought up by Bryan Ferry. No such flights of fancy were entertained by _any_ of his family. To entertain such images of life, like those Vince's tales were rooted in...well, you might as well pack your things because you were getting shipped to the nearest asylum. His family practically _feared _anything surreal. Material; the physical, what you could see and feel. That's all there was. The closest thing to surreal his family held any stock in was a belief in god. And even that was only because of the 'physical evidence' that was the Bible. Even his fun-loving mother tended to shy away from that foggy realm of metaphor and dreams.

By all rights Howard should fear this boy; and he did, to an extent. But he feared more _for_ the child than he feared the child himself. If the kid's life had been as dodgy as his stories made it seem, then Howard shuddered to think of what might become of him in a year. Hell, what might happen the instant he walked out of the safety of this hospital and back into the world, filled with homicidal hyena brothers, paedo green men, and an unnamed monster that was _still _on the loose.

By the time Howard pulled himself from his thoughts, he realised that Vince was nearly asleep. In fact, now that Howard really looked at him, he noticed small bags underneath the kid's eyes. Had the child not been sleeping well? Perhaps it was the strange room. Howard felt sympathy well up in him. It must be quite spooky to be made to sleep in a foreign bed, alone in a sterile environment filled with nurses half asleep and in no mood to humor the needs of a lonely child. Howard wished terribly that the doctors would let him stay through the night. He'd already asked, after his third visit. But they had very gently told him it was not allowed, as he was not family. Howard thought that was utter bullshit. Christ, with how little he had yet to see of Vince's _real _guardians (no word from them since that initial call made by the doctors) and given the fact that _Howard_ found the time to be there every day until dark, but the ones in charge of Vince's care couldn't be bothered to show up _once_, the kid was practically his! On the back of that mental list of Howard's, he hastily scrawled, 'Give a firm talking-to to Vince's guardians the second I finally meet them!'

Reaching out toward the kid, Howard's hand paused only a second before resting over the top of the boy's head. Vince was now completely passed out. Howard assumed what did it was the story. He hadn't told one since the crocodile fiasco. Perhaps they comforted Vince, in some weird way. Howard wasn't sure how the story of three hyenas slaughtering a female lion could bring peace to anyone, but Vince _did _seem genuinely happy to be once more spinning a yarn for Howard to sit back and listen to with rapt attention.

Noticing the time, Howard mentally kicked himself when his watch read 11:27. He was supposed to be home by ten every afternoon. For the first time, Howard hoped his mother had gone out early that night, like she sometimes did. If not, then _he _would be the one receiving a talking-to when he stepped inside his front door. Sighing, Howard got up and closed the door to Vince's room, glancing back one last time at the sleeping child. Just before the door clicked completely closed, Vince, in his sleep, kicked the covers down around his hips, and his arms were found buried in the large sleeves of Howard's long-forgotten jacket. Howard laughed quietly as he made his way down the brightly lit hallway.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Christmas cast its shadow over Howard before he had a chance to brace himself for it. He'd lost track of the days. He felt completely time-warped for some reason. Howard no longer saw time as numbers and hands on a clock face. Time was now measured out in segments. There was the chunk of much-too-long time in classes; then there was Vince time; and then home time, filled mostly with sleep and weird dreams.

Once the realisation that it was Christmas eve was upon him, Howard went into an outright panic. He didn't have a present for Vince. Nor did he have much money of his own. He'd been saving up meager earnings from chores and birthday money for years to buy a new guitar with. A bass one. He wanted so badly to learn to play bass. But he also knew he couldn't face the kid without a present in hand the next day.

Howard flinched when he ultimately made the decision to skip his visit to Vince on that day and instead spend it scouring the countryside's shops. It wasn't an easy decision, and envisioning Vince sitting alone waiting for him made Howard feel nauseous, so he poured all of his focus into finding the perfect gift to make up for it.

Sputtering out his plans to his mother as he struggled into his brown coat, Howard leapt from the door and flew down the street. Then he realised he'd blooming forgot his money, ran back the two blocks he'd covered, sprinted up his stairs, and pocketed the money laid on his dresser. He then repeated his earlier actions, racing past his mother and out the door, and got about five metres before slipping on the icy pavement and landing flat out like a sprawling beetle.

* * *

Five hours later and still nursing a bruised backside, Howard walked back through his front door, not entirely satisfied with his final choice. He'd exhausted all the shops he could find, and nothing had stood out to him, and the items that _did_ were far beyond his price range. So Howard had admitted defeat and bought the kid a little electric keyboard. Howard felt like a loser; this thing was obviously for five-year-olds. Vince would hate it. Press a few keys, get bored and throw it in a bin. But it was the only thing he could find in the last store that seemed decent enough. And it was cheap. He still had quite a bit of his money left. He felt greedy for thinking of it that way. But it _was_ his money, after all.

The look his mother gave him when he asked if she had any wrapping paper made Howard feel itchy. She had practically broken his spine with the powerful hug she gave him upon realising his intention of giving a gift to Vince. Then Isabella had gone into a frenzy, snatching the keyboard from Howard's loose grasp and proceeding to fuss over it until it was tightly wrapped with a nice little blue ribbon on top. He hadn't seen his mother glow quite like that since he himself used to get excited over presents at Christmas.

* * *

Opening the door to Vince's room, Howard saw that the boy was surprisingly asleep. Howard just settled quietly into the chair, wrapped present under arm, and watched the boy for a few minutes. Vince was recovering quickly, and would soon be able to leave. Howard knew it'd be after school began, and he'd already made arrangements with the headmaster to bring Vince his schoolwork when classes resumed. Now _that _had sent the old headmaster for a twirl; a seventeen-year-old wishing to deliver schoolwork to a child still in primary school. What a thought.

The damn kid had the nerve to sleep through _the entire day_. All through Christmas. As the sky darkened Howard was more than a little agitated. He'd considered just leaving the present for Vince to find with a note, but every time he made to rise from his seat, he just felt bound to it, as though he were magnetised. He told himself it was just to watch over the boy; to make sure he didn't suffocate under the duvet.

As the hour grew late, Howard did have to leave for a brief moment to call his mother and announce he'd be staying on. For how long? She had asked. Howard answered that he didn't know.

When Howard's watch read 10:01 he began to worry. No one should sleep for an entire day, let alone hyperactive little kids. Howard waved down a nurse from the doorway, surprised one hadn't come by to kick him out yet, and asked her if anything was wrong with Vince. He knew he shouldn't have left him alone, even for a day. Now he'd taken a turn for the worst!

The nurse, sensing Howard's rising panic, smiled gently and assured him that Vince was simply sedated. He'd had to be; the entire day yesterday he'd apparently thrown an absolute fit. Shouting and trying to escape from his bed. The doctors had finally just drugged him. He was sure to come around in about another hour or so.

Now Howard felt like an asshole. He thanked the nurse and closed the door once more, dropping into his chair like a weight.

* * *

It was now 11:56, no longer Christmas. That didn't stop Howard from murmuring a "Happy Christmas" when Vince finally opened his eyes. Vince didn't return the words. In fact, he looked away from Howard almost immediately and opted instead to stare out the window at the night sky. Howard's thoughts couldn't help but spiral southward at this.

_'He's angry at me.'_

"It's a full moon." Vince finally said after a few seconds of Howard getting more and more tense. Howard wasn't sure what to make of this random statement, but decided to just go with it, and so packed his reply full of cheeriness even though, to be honest, he was tired and achey from sitting about _all damn day and night, you insufferable little brat._

"Y-yeah, it's beautiful."

"It's awful. I hate the moon; he's creepy. Always sayin' weird stuff."

_'You're weird.'_

"Ah. Well...I got your Christmas present right here. Want to open it?"

Howard neglected to point out that he didn't see any presents lying around from Vince's adoptive family, nor had he seen them all day. This brought Howard's mood crashing into the tiles. If his cheap gift was the only thing the kid would be getting, then Howard might have to punch a wall. Or a guardian.

Vince's head swerved from the window to face Howard so quickly Howard flinched at the soft crack he heard from the child's neck. Vince didn't seem to notice though as his eyes now filled with surprise and delight.

"You got me a present?"

"Well yes. It _is_ Christmas."

"Yeah but you didn't have to, ya know, get me nothin'. I don' even have somethin' for _you_."

"That's alright. I'll survive. After all, _you're _the kid here. What kind of kid doesn't get presents on Christmas?"

"I know lots of kids that don't get presents on Christmas."

That shut Howard right up. He bent over to retrieve the wrapped bundle in silence, handing it off to the boy to watch him slowly tear the wrapping paper off. Not surprisingly, the kid seemed entirely enchanted with the _paper_, holding strips of it up in the low light and watching the colors dance. Next Christmas Howard planned to just buy the boy a few giant roles of the shiniest wrapping paper he could find.

_Finally_ Vince got over the sparkly wrappings and made it to the actual gift. Howard wanted to close his eyes, but restrained himself, as that would be childish. He _did_ cast his gaze upon the floor, though. For several short breaths nothing was said, and Howard felt a right coward for not meeting the child's eyes, which he could feel digging into his eyelids.

"I love it."

The words were small and soft, and when Howard looked up and into the boy's face he saw sincerity there. Vince had no smile, his face was almost blank; but he _did _appear very happy with his present, so Howard smiled for the both of them and let out the long puff of air he'd been holding in.

* * *

Howard struggled amid the mass of small bodies bumping and morphing together to form a massive sea of children. He was currently making his way toward the primary school's office, where he was told he'd receive Vince's work, left there by his teacher.

Howard felt foolish keeping his arms nearly at level with his own head, but he didn't feel comfortable letting them hang by his sides, only to get slapped and batted about by children running up and down the over-crowded hall.

Seeing the door with the word 'office' on it was like seeing an oasis, or an island. Howard surged forward, hands still held high, practically on his tip toes as if he could hover away from these kids and their pointy elbows. Hand on the doorknob, Howard fell into the room and simply stood there for a moment, breathing in the fresh open air and getting his wits together.

He opened his eyes to see a vaguely amused looking woman behind a desk with many files laid out on top. Howard guessed she was the over-seer of the primary school, seeing as the Headmaster preferred spending much of his time across the street.

"Uh, Vince Noir? I was told I'd find his schoolwork here..."

"Ah yes! Noir. Noir, let's see...here ya go, sweetie."

The woman smiled and pushed forward a particular stack, not as tall as the others, thankfully. It was mainly textbooks, with a small note stuck to the top reading 'Vincent Noir' in scribbled ink. Raising his eyebrows, Howard bid the lady good day and nearly dropped to his knees in relief when he discovered the previously overrun hallway to be deserted, the children having gone home for the afternoon.

* * *

Howard entered the hospital room and immediately began to set up Vince's overbed table. When Vince realised why he let out a groan and pulled the duvet up over his face. Howard grinned down at the top of his head, thumping it lightly with his finger.

"C'mon now, up and at 'em. If you don't start now it'll only pile up. Come on, get up. Stop whinging about. I'll help you if you want. _Vincent_."

That did the trick. Vince snatched the duvet down and stared up at Howard, brow drawn and eyes sharp.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"It's written right there. Why did you never tell me that was your full name? I mean, I should've known. No one's named _just_ Vince. I like it."

"Well I don't! It sounds like the name of some posh twat."

"Easy on the language. Now c'mon, sit up a bit. Doctors say you can now, and _right_ in time to do some work!"

Vince groaned once more, and with the aid of Howard's hand on his shoulder he sat up nearly straight. Howard let out a quiet laugh at Vince's expression, as if he were going to a funeral rather than doing some bookwork. This earned him a glare as he set the stack of texts and papers on his chair and picked up the top one. Placing it on the bed table and opening it, Howard found another note, this one with written instructions on what Vince was to study. Howard braced himself for the long afternoon of the kid's work _plus_ his own when he got home, and took a seat next to the boy on the bed.

"So...you got a middle name?"

Howard couldn't help but throw this bit of curiosity out in the air as he readied to leave, three hours later. They had worked as long as Howard thought was necessary, finishing over half the pile. He felt rather proud of himself, and Vince.

Vince shook his head mutely at Howard's question. He didn't elaborate, though, and Howard didn't bother inquiring any further. Chances are he'd just get some cock and bull fairytale in reply, and he was in no state of mind to be deciphering metaphors. He had a history paper due. Goddamn teachers. School had only let in a day ago!

Bending over the kid to get back his jacket, which he'd let the child bury his arms in for far too long, Howard made it down the hospital hallway before staggering blindly against a wall at the realisation that he had just kissed the kid on top of his head before leaving the room.

* * *

Two weeks passed, school was back in full swing, and Vince was nearly recovered enough to leave the hospital. All in all, everything was looking up for Howard. Soon he'd be able to bid farewell to his school years and get on with his life! He entered Vince's room with a skip in his step, and the two spent an hour engaged in Vince's tales, which he'd just begun telling Howard again at the teen's insistence. Vince had seemed hesitant at first, as if still skeptical over the whole crocodile ordeal. But Howard was determined to bury that deep in the past. The young man had come to live with the fact that he'd most likely never know who'd hurt Vince that night, and Vince certainly would never just _up and reveal the truth goddammit_. The kid didn't even mention it, and practically feigned amnesia every time the subject was brought up. The only evidence to show of that night weeks ago was the tiny scar along the underside of Vince's left jawbone. The scar left by a rope, so the doctors said. You couldn't even see it unless the boy looked upward, and Howard doubted Vince knew it was even there. No, it was best to just leave this whole ordeal in the past, and simply stay alert, in case of future attacks on the child. And anyway, these stories really did seem to brighten the kid's mood more than anything else, so Howard was all too happy to play at contentment and listen.

After finishing off a story about Caloonie the Cobra, Vince barely took in a breath before announcing excitedly, "It's my birthday today. I'm eight!"

Howard thought he heard glass shattering distantly. Damn. He wasn't prepared for this. He didn't have a present. He didn't even have a bleeding cake! Or candles or balloons or-

_'Hold it right there, Moon. What the flippin' hell are you on!? Your not throwing this kid a party in the infirmary front hall, now are you. Calm down!'_

"Why didn't you tell me before? I...I could've gotten you something."

"What? Why?"

"W-well, _because._"

"Howard," Vince was laughing now, and Howard had calmed enough to realised he sounded silly, stuttering and sputtering on as he was. "It's alright, really! I'm fine. I _love _your Christmas present you got me; tha's all I need."

To prove his point, Vince picked the little yellow keyboard off the bedside table and began thumming keys. He clearly didn't know how to play, but judging by the look of concentration on the kid's face, Howard was sure he _would_ learn very soon. Still, Howard felt a driving need to give the kid_ something_.

"How about this. For your birthday present I will...give you French lessons."

"Wot, like the language?"

"Yes like the language, what else- look, when you get out of this sterile prison, I'll start teaching you French in the evenings after classes. How's that sound?"

Vince seemed a bit put off for a few moments, and Howard was sure he'd laugh the offer off, but when Vince met his eyes once more he looked incredibly intrigued at the prospect of learning a new language.

"I think I'd like that. I always wanted to know what was so great about them French types."

A few more horrid keyboard smashes and Howard had to temporarily retreat into his 'happy place' for a bit. Just until the kid stopped playing that electric ear-bleeder.


	8. Chapter 8

Since this is so short, I decided to post it early! The chapters will get longer, I promise!

Chapter 8

Howard Moon's hand paused where it rested lightly on the doorknob to Vince Noir's hospital room. From within he could hear a slight sound. As the minutes ticked by he guessed that it was either the small television, which was unlikely since Vince rarely ever watched it, or...Vince was singing.

Howard had opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it shut behind him before he even realised it. And when he did he winced; surely Vince would stop now that he had an audience. Howard himself had always been too shy to sing around others, even his mother. But looking upon the child, now able to sit upright in his bed, Howard was happily surprised to find that Vince just kept going, giving Howard a small glance of recognition before turning back to the coloring book spread open on the little overbed table.

A nurse had gone out of her way to bring him coloring books and crayons, apparently when Vince wouldn't stop whinging on about his skull-bending boredom. In only eight more days, Vince would be released back to his home.

Howard tried to make out what exactly it was Vince was singing, but was bemused when he found he could barely understand a word of it. It was hardly english, or any other language, for that matter. Simply jibberish sounds that flowed together. The few actual words Vince threw in there were even more befuddling than the noises, so Howard stopped trying to translate and chose to sit down in his chair and focus on Vince's voice itself.

Vince had the kind of voice that would sound lovely, if he wanted it to. But Vince seemed far more intent on the 'lyrics', rather than the actual quality of his singing. This resulted in quite a few screeching high notes and wavering pitches. After what seemed like a headache-inducing lifetime, Vince finally ended his song, and his coloring, because he pushed the table away from himself and sat up a little straighter, smiling over at Howard. Howard decided to ignore the happy little bear on the coloring page before him that had a drawn-in speech bubble shouting 'wanker!' up at him.

"So, uh, you excited to get out of here?"

As if Howard had to ask. Vince grinned and nodded vigorously. Howard smiled and proceeded to tell Vince the happy news he'd just learned that day at school.

"Well, then you're going to be running up the walls when I tell you _this_; The Headmaster has arranged for all years to go on a school trip before summer holidays. That means everyone will be going. You should be back in school and well enough _weeks_ before the trip is scheduled."

"Really? Wow! I heard they used to have those every year, back before I went there. But they stopped doing them like seven years ago or somethin'. Don't know why. This is brilliant! It'll be like an adventure! Where's it to?"

"Apparently the Wuthering Heights Zoo. It's supposed to be very big. A lot of huge exhibits. And that's where the news gets bad. Since the admission price is so costly, every student and parent that comes along has to pay for their own admission. The school will drive us there on the buses, but we have to pay for everything else."

Vince's face fell. Howard had foreseen this; judging by how 'attentive' his guardians seemed to be so far, Howard really doubted they would pay for Vince to go to a zoo for a day. This is why Howard had had a serious talk with his mother just before making his way to the hospital. Clearing his throat so that he had Vince's attention once more, Howard took in the solemn, resigned look on the kid's face, and smiled widely as he began with what he knew would cheer the little bugger right up.

"And that is why I am going to be paying for your ticket. Now, granted, that means my mother can't come along, as we can't be shelling out for _three_ tickets, but I _do_ have some extra money saved up that we could use to buy food and maybe some souvenirs."

Howard sensed that he was beginning to ramble and so closed his mouth. Vince looked as though if he were able to he'd launch right out of the bed and onto Howard then and there. Howard felt a bit conflicted inside; that money was all he had left after Vince's gift last month. He'd really wanted to get a bass guitar. But if Vince kept looking at him like that Howard felt he might just go completely broke, and settle for a flippin' harmonica.

* * *

The day Vince was scheduled to leave, Howard showed up at his usual time, barely able to make it through classes, only to open the door into an empty room. A small shock went up his body as he beheld the freshly-made bed, and then it hit him that Vince's guardians must've come by earlier to fetch him. Funny, Howard had completely forgotten about them. Now he felt a bit foolish, realising with another jolt that the entire day he'd been envisioning himself arriving at the hospital to cart Vince away. Take him out of there and...to where? His home? _His_ home? When had he started thinking of his and Vince's homes as the same thing? Ah, well.

With a bit of an awkward turn, Howard slowly made his way back out the front doors and toward his house, not sure what to do with the rest of his day.

* * *

Standing outside the elementary at six in the morning, Howard felt more than a little creepy as the first of the children showed up, huddling outside the front entrance, sneaking occasional looks over at Howard, who stayed near the pavement. Turned out Howard didn't have to get up so early to go out there and wait. Because wait he did. He waited and waited for nigh on two hours, hearing the simultaneous sounds of bells chiming in both neighboring buildings. He was late. And so was Vince. He was supposed to come to school the day after his release from the hospital. Maybe something had gone wrong. Maybe Vince was still too hurt to move about without the assistance of painkillers. Maybe...maybe that monster, the one that still plagued the back of Howard's mind, maybe _he_ had shown up, in the night, while Vince lay asleep in his own bed. Unguarded. Unchecked on by nurses making their rounds.

Howard's throat tightened as he attempted to swallow his mounting worry, and just as he was about to make a complete fool of himself by sprinting down the streets toward Vince's house (he didn't even know where it was!), he saw the boy appear from down the road, rounding a distant corner that led deep into the shadiest stretches of the district.

Momma Hen mode activated, Howard strode brusquely to Vince, meeting him halfway. Vince looked up at him in confusion as the distance between them lessened, until they were headed back toward the schools side by side.

"What took you so long? I'm late for my classes! I-" Howard cut himself short.

_'Listen to you! You're not the boy's father, Moon. You're making an utter tit of yourself, dogging after him in the street.'_

Vince did appear contrite, though, which restored_ some _of Howard's pride.

"Sorry. It was hard to get dressed. It hurt trying to get these stupid jeans on. And the doctors say I can't run for at least two more weeks, or else I can hurt my hip again."

"Are you alright? Do you need help walking? Can you get to class on your own? Um, maybe I should just walk you back home."

_'Yeah, Moon; utter tit.'_

Vince grinned up at him, stating that he was fine. Looking him over, Howard did have to admit that he seemed completely unhurt. He was walking slower than he used to, but other than that he was perfectly capable of making it through a simple day of school, and now they were at the front doors to the primary so Howard had better stop hovering over him and get his ass to his own classroom! Muttering a "goodbye" in Vince's direction, Howard hurriedly made his way across the road and into his own school building. Vince would be alright on his own. He was eight, not three! And he _had_ managed to survive for all these years without Howard shadowing him, so he was obviously doing _something_ right.

After a withering look from his teacher, Howard assumed his usual desk, and immediately tuned out the lesson. His grades were sure to plummet from this, as well as his health. Howard was certain he'd find grey hairs if he looked in the mirror.

_'That's it. Concentrate, Moon! How do you expect to finally pass your last year of school and get a good job if you keep letting your mind wander like this! Pay attention!'_

Nodding to himself like a loon, Howard leant forward in his desk and put all his willpower into listening to every word the teacher said, though this did little to help him understand a word she was saying. Bollocks. The young man just decided to lay his head down for a little while.

(I know you saw that. And I'm not sorry :)


	9. Chapter 9

I really enjoyed this one. In fact, it was one of the very first scenarios that popped into my head while planning this entire thing! :D

Chapter 9

Vince kept shooting longing looks over at Howard, and it was going to give him a bloody panic attack! Each year was to be crammed into different buses. Howard was certainly not looking forward to being elbowed for the entirety of the three-hour-long bus ride it would take to get them to Wuthering Heights Zoo. He was already stressed by this prospect of unwanted touching as it was; he didn't need the kid looking over at him every five seconds with that face! Vince was of course going to be put on a separate bus, being in year 3. Howard just thanked god that there weren't that many students in his own year.

Pulled to attention by the sound of someone calling for everyone to pile up onto the buses, Howard was ushered forward by the throng of bodies and barely got through the bus door in one piece. He didn't know how Vince pulled it off, but somehow that sneaky little brat had managed to flee his own group undetected, because Howard felt small hands clasp onto his slacks. He didn't even have to turn around to know it was the kid. None of the surrounding teenagers seemed to notice or care that there was an outsider among them, because everyone crammed onto seats and the very floor of the bus without so much as a look in Howard and Vinces' direction. Howard was able to claim a seat near the back, on the left. He was just glad he'd gotten a window-seat, as he was soon joined by two other people.

Quickly pushing down the window so that he could breathe, Howard felt the first of what promised to be many elbow jabs in his side by the two girls next to him. He'd had to grab up Vince when they sat down so that they wouldn't squash the child. They were entirely enveloped in their own little world together, paying no mind to neither Howard nor their almost-victim. Vince seemed perfectly content settled on Howard's lap, leaning forward and observing his surroundings as though these teenagers were something fascinating rather than revolting, in Howard's mind, anyway.

Despite the many open windows, the bus quickly filled up with the body heat of the forty-odd people, and Howard wanted desperately to peel off his jacket, but found that such a feat would be impossible as he was boxed up on all sides. Feeling claustrophobic in his small cell, with its four walls made up of gossiping females, a window, a bus seat and a Vince, Howard resigned himself to sweating in silence. He was relieved to note that Vince was also silent, although not due to discomfort. No, Vince was quiet because he was listening and watching the goings on around him with rapt attention, his mouth slightly parted. The one and only time he spoke throughout the entire trip was to compliment one of the neighboring girls on her shoes. The girl, noticing Vince for the first time, gave him a strange look, but seemed to shrug off his presence quickly with a smile and a thanks, turning back to her conversation.

* * *

The Zoo was every bit as big as Howard had expected it to be. And he was glad it was, with how expensive the damn tickets were! £23.30 each, and that was only because they were students. Howard was left with only £10 in his wallet for food. Walking through the entrance, the students were to stay with the groups that they'd rode on the bus with, and were told to meet back at their buses by five o'clock sharp. To be late was to risk getting left behind. Only a few parents had shown up in total. Howard suspected the issue of prices to be the main cause. His group had only one parent, which was the reason the teens stayed together and didn't dart off to their own devices. This particular mom, a Mrs. Bennett, was quite scary with her sharp voice and sharper eyes, warning any who fancied thoughts of sneaking from the assigned group. Howard guessed she was the mother of the unfortunate girl who was currently attempting to become one with the ground.

Vince hid stealthily behind Howard while the woman spoke, and when she began to lead the group forward, Vince remained at his position, one hand clutching Howard's jacket so as not to loose track of him in the midst of the bumping and clashing bodies.

* * *

Turns out even a zoo as large and fascinating as this one could be made unbearable and hectic if you added in large groups of shouting and laughing students. Two hours in, Howard had been unable to view any exhibits simply because he couldn't see through the crowd. And any who straggled behind the group to get some relief from the din were shrieked at by Mrs. Bennett. And if Howard thought_ he _was in a bad place, looking down at the dissapointed face of Vince as they passed by yet another enclosure that he couldn't even see the fence of, caused Howard to huff in frustration. The teenager looked up to observe a father hefting his child onto his shoulders to see above the passing throng. Howard wished he could do the same, but that would be like announcing to the world that Vince wasn't in the right group. Howard rubbed at the bridge of his nose, fighting off the slight headache that was building there.

An hour later and they were herded into a small restaurant with instructions to eat within the allotted time, and that Mrs. Bennett would be sitting next to the door so as to catch anyone trying to make a slick getaway. The teens in the group were looking mutinous, and Howard felt a bit better knowing that he and Vince weren't the only ones hating this whole 'assigned groups' schtick.

Howard was relieved that the ticket price seemed to be the only horrifically expensive thing in the zoo. For £5.41 he was able to buy himself and Vince some burgers and fries. He'd already sat Vince down at a booth in a far corner so he could order their food without Mrs. Bennett seeing the kid. Making his way to said table while juggling two drinks and a tray of food, Howard carefully settled it all down, and sat with a sigh across from Vince. Thankfully they were not joined by any others. The rest of the students seemed content with reenacting lunch period at their school by crowding around certain tables, sticking to their own cliques and leaving many tables open to loners and those just wanting some space.

Vince ate his meal startlingly fast, and spent the rest of the time watching Howard eat in silence, which made things quite weird. Vince's mood did seem a bit low, and Howard felt bad for not being able to do anything about it. If he knew where Vince's original group was, he'd probably make the child go with them. At least among others his own size he's be able to actually _see _some animals today.

"Bored?" Howard asked for lack of anything else to say. A nod and small smile was what he got in return. "Sorry." He said in response.

"Not your fault." Vince replied, picking at his bright blue nailpaint, already chipped horribly. "'F it weren't for that old bint we could be off havin' our own adventure."

Small blue flecks littered the table top, and Howard resisted the urge to wipe them off with a serviette, his mood darkening more and more with each passing minute.

* * *

Reading the time on his wristwatch, Howard saw that they had less than an hour to make it back to the entrance of the zoo. Mrs. Bennett must've realised this as well, as she began shepherding the students back toward the entrance of the Tundra World. Vince's mood had brightened considerably when they entered this expansive building. Howard was also impressed with the sheer size of the place. The entire thing was done up like the arctic. Fake snow peppered the area, and little icicles hung from the high ceiling. On second thought, given how cold the place was, maybe the ice was real. Howard could faintly see his own breath! He was glad now that he'd thought to wear his jacket.

He was dissapointed that they'd only made it into the front room before Mrs. Bennett was calling them back out again. Vince whinged incessantly behind him that they didn't even get to see any animals, and looking over his shoulder at the great hall that led further into the bowels of the Tundra World, Howard agreed silently.

Howard felt Vince pull on his jacket repeatedly, causing him to fall behind the group. He reached behind him and lightly batted at Vince's hands, causing the boy to let go with a loud huff. Great, the kid was going to throw a tantrum. Howard rubbed at his temples, trying to relieve the migraine that had been plaguing him since he'd fallen on his face two hours ago, accidentally tripped by another student. He was_ really _in no mood for theatrics right now. He just wanted to get back home so he could take a nice long shower. Howard rubbed at his eyes. His migraine seemed to be spiking, causing the sun to shine far too brightly and the shouts of his group and groups nearby to drown out the small voice of Vince behind him, saying something.

Moving quickly to catch back up to the group before Mrs. Bitch saw that they'd fallen behind, Howard focused on the paved pathway as the crowd made its way back to the entrance of the zoo. As groups joined together and the crowd of students became a full-on mob, a fight broke out between two burly teens. They seemed to be only messing about, but in their horse-play they were pushing over a few smaller students. They were very close, and Howard turned around to pick Vince up, to keep him from getting trampled as teachers and parents shouted at the two airheads. Only, Howard ended up reaching out to thin air where he'd expected to find a small body.

Feeling discombobulated, Howard looked about him. Vince had worn a bright yellow shirt that day, so Howard scanned the area for the color, only spotting it once on a girl a few metres away. Strange, when had Vince stopped clutching onto his jacket? Howard hadn't noticed, and still felt the ghost of the sensation even now. With a thrill of panic, Howard remembered. The Tundra World! Bollocks! _Piss-stained hairy hanging motherfucking bollocks_! That little shit had gone and run off into the Tundra building, he just knew it! Oh, Howard was going to skin him alive when he got ahold of him. Skin him alive and fillet him!

Grimacing, Howard used the still rough-housing boys as due distraction to sneak through the crowd and by some miracle managed to sprint behind a gift cart without being spotted. He decided that moving further would be too risky, and so with a racing heart and mind, Howard waited a full twenty minutes until the last of the crowd had dispersed out of the zoo. Howard could distantly hear the sound of the buses starting up as he power-walked back toward the Tundra World. They were going to be stranded for sure. Howard would have to use his remaining money on one of the pay phones to call his mother for a ride.

Migraine blazing, Howard nearly saw red as he pushed open the large doors to the Tundra World. The walk back seemed to take much longer than the walk to the entrance, and Howard felt a pull in his stomach at realising that it was a forty-minute walk each way. The first traces of darkness were on the horizon as Howard entered the building. Goddammit. It was humongous! How he expected to find Vince in the ramaining twenty minutes they had before the zoo closed down Howard wasn't sure. He _was_ sure of one thing, however; Vince Noir was going to regret walking off on his own without telling Howard, _that_ was certain!

* * *

Over an hour later and Howard wasn't certain of anything anymore. He hadn't seen sight nor sound of another person since he stormed down the front hall of this villainously large building. Hell, it wasn't even a building. It was a world, through and through. The zoo was large to begin with, but their Tundra World was a feat in itself. Howard had been wandering down endless halls and through room after room, in circles, and had seen no sign of Vince or any other person. There were no food stands or carts of any kind to be manned in the back where Howard found himself. There was a map, though, that made Howard dizzy with how large a scope he had yet to cover in his search for his wayward child.

Howard was no longer steaming with fury; that had passed about thirty minutes ago. Now he just felt tired, and worried to death. And as the large lights above flicked off suddenly, very afraid. Maybe Vince wasn't even in the Tundra World. Maybe he really _had_ been in the crowd and was just separated from Howard. Maybe he'd spotted his own group and had returned to them. Maybe he was back at his own home now having no idea of the conniption fit he was giving Howard.

Howard was going to die, here and now, at the ripe old age of seventeen. Cause of death could range between mauled by an escaped animal to butchered by a deranged zoo employee to sheer worry over some goddamn fucking little kid that might not even be there!

Sick of the silence, Howard began shouting as loudly as possible, calling out for help to any who might still be in the building. His voice echoed off the high walls around him, but all he got in return was the distant sound of penguins sqwaking. Well, appears he really _was _alone. All employees up at the front must've left for the night.

Cursing out loud every swear he knew, Howard headed toward the sound of the penguins. Surely if the child _were _in here, he'd be where the animals were. Howard hadn't reached the enclosures yet. He'd been frantically circling about the museum section of the Tundra World. Yeah, that's right, the sodding museum section. Seems the zoo wasn't big enough that they had to stick a bloody museum up in their building as well. Howard never wanted to be in a place this large ever again in his life. Not with the kid, anyway. This was just too much work.

Reaching the penguin exhibit, Howard saw no sign of the boy. Frustrated beyond anything he'd ever felt, Howard slumped onto a bench and pressed his pounding forehead against the pleasantly cold glass of the penguin enclosure, shutting his eyes.

It was in this silence that Howard heard, or imagined he heard, faint and distant sounds of singing. Standing up so abruptly he startled a nearby penguin, who screeched at him in alarm, Howard made his way toward the sound. He rounded a corner and came upon another exhibit. This one was quite expansive, and Howard walked the length of most of it before he came to a stop, listening once more for the singing that had ceased a few seconds before.

There! It started up again, faint talking this time, from nearby. Howard rushed forward along the glass walls of the enclosure, before stumbling to a halt at the sight before him. His blood frozen in his veins, Howard looked beyond the glass wall at a yellow-shirted little boy, standing in the exhibit itself. Standing not too far away from one very confused looking polar bear. Vince was talking quietly to it, and the bear sat up on it's perch on a snowy rock and looked down at the small child in interest.

**"VINCE!"**

Howard hadn't meant to erupt like that, and immediately regretted it as both Vince and the polar bear started in surprise and turned to look at him. Howard seemed to have lost control of his motor functions, as he immediately pressed both hands against the glass of the exhibit and look frantically up and down it as if this were the secret dance to opening a magic portal in the glass. Vince said something in Howard's direction, but it was so faint Howard couldn't make it out. Howard himself decided he couldn't trust his voice at the moment and settled for miming frantically at Vince to get over to him NOW. Vince looked away toward a door at the back of the exhibit, not far from where he stood, and Howard wanted to kick whichever employee apparently had left it unlocked right in the teeth.

Vince huffed dramatically, and made to turn around and make his way to the door. Only now the polar bear seemed fed up with this tiny person's intrusion into his home. With a mighty growl that even Howard heard, the polar bear stood up on its hind legs, made even taller by the rock it was still on. Vince froze up, and glanced back at Howard in fear. His confidence from only moments ago lost on him.

Not waiting around for the bear's next move, Howard ran as someone possessed to the end of the enclosure. Reaching a door marked 'employees only' he flung it open, the sound of it banging against the wall spiking his migraine once more, rendering his vision fuzzy. Racing down the narrow back hall, he skidded to a stop outside the first door to the left and opened it, launching himself inside.

Vince seemed to have been inching backward toward the door while Howard had been busy sprinting, still facing the polar bear, which was now off the rock and on all fours, staring the child down. Vince was speaking to it once more, apologising for Howard's outburst and stating that he was no threat. Howard's brow drew down and his eyes narrowed. This child truly was certifiably off his head. Howard must try never to forget that again, lest something like this occur a second time, heaven forbid.

The child was just out of arm's reach now, so Howard took a swift step forward and wrapped one arm around the boy's waist, hoisting him up. The bear gave another almighty growl at this motion and began walking toward them. Howard backed up quickly, bumped into the door, cursed a few times, then turned and opened it. Stepping through, he slammed the door behind him and ran, toting the kid, back down the hall as if the bear might open the door and give chase. Only when he was out the employee door and all the way back to the penguin exhibit did he set the kid on a bench and heave a deep breath.

Hands on his hips, Howard bore down on the child, looming over him, mouth open to shout, to reprimand, to question; but nothing came out, only more heavy breathing. So Howard closed his mouth, running a shaky hand over it and settled for pacing back and forth in silence. This went on for who-knows-how-long, the silent pacing; interrupted every now and then by another attempt at speaking made by Howard, who would stand in front of the kid and lean forward, as if the motion alone could convey everything that was desperately trying to claw its way out of Howard's throat.

"Howard-"

Vince had started to speak, but was quieted abruptly by Howard, who's hand shot up in the air to signal silence. Vince flinched at the sudden move, then seemed to wilt and slouch down in his seat. Howard continued pacing.

The truth of the matter was, it wasn't that Howard couldn't find the words to speak. That wasn't the problem. Oh, he had words. He had _plenty_ of words. Too many, to shout and rant at the kid before him. It was the words themselves that made Howard's throat go dry and cause his body to shake as he trudged back and forth. Words about how he had been so worried about Vince. How long he'd searched. How truly tired he was and how _just not cut out for this _he felt. And how he never ever thought that such a sight as seeing Vince standing before a gigantic polar bear could made his knees go completely weak. How as he ran for that exhibit door Howard Moon had never been more uncertain nor more sure of himself and the role he had taken on as keeper of this little boy who watched him now in silence.

_"J-Just what in the bloody hell did you think you were doing!?" _Was what Howard settled on grating out between clenched teeth. He was still afraid of raising his voice too high, afraid that somehow the polar bear might escape it's habitat and come for them. So he settled for a harsh tone, just barely above normal level. Vince looked down at his hands, chipping blue everywhere, and settled his mouth in a tight line. Howard was glad that he seemed to be having an effect on the child. Now he didn't feel like a _complete_ tit.

"What? One trip to the hospital not enough for you? You want to go back already? Are you so determined to make me carry you to a doctor yet again that you'd purposely get mauled by a bloody polar bear!?"

Okay _now_ he was shouting. He couldn't help it. His legs were shaking so badly he felt he'd collapse if he didn't sit down. Adrenaline; it'd do that to you. But Howard couldn't sit down. No, he had to keep moving, back and forth. It was the only thing keeping him from completely flipping his shit.

Coming once more to a stop, Howard closed his eyes, and after breathing deeply for a few moments, said in a much calmer voice, "Why didn't you tell me where you were going, Vince? And _why _did you leave the group?"

Vince finally looked up at Howard and said, "I _did_ tell you. I told you to come with me to see the animals, but you just kept on walkin'. So I thought you didn't wanna go."

Oh, that's right. Howard did vaguely recall hearing Vince over the throng, saying something, tugging on his jacket. Now Howard felt foolish. But not foolish enough to make him back down.

"Oh? And so you decide to just up and run off on your own? And get into the polar bear exhibit, no less? Vince, what did you think you were _doing_? Vince, that bear could've killed you! Do you-"

"No, it wouldn't! We were gettin' on just fine 'til you came along and shrieked like a pigeon at us." Vince now looked affronted, sitting up straight and crossing his arms at Howard.

Howard looked down at Vince with an angry expression. The boy must think that he's an idiot!

"You don't get on with a polar bear, Vince!"

"I did! We just clicked! We were talkin' all about the South Pole. That's where he says he came from. When he were just a little cub, they plucked him up and sent him to live here. He says it's alright, but he does miss his home-"

"What."

It wasn't a question. More of a statement. At that moment Howard's mind was comprised of nothing but empty white space and that one word in big flashing neon lights. But Vince took it as an invitation and launched into an explanation, face bright once more.

"Well, you see, I can talk to animals. It's a gift I learned from living with Bryan. He can do it too, and so he taught me. How else d'you think I was able to talk to Jahooli the leopard and the others? But don't tell no one, alright? I'm not a circus freak."

Maybe it was the adrenaline beginning to leave his veins. Or maybe it was the fact that they had just run out of a polar bear exhibit unscathed. Or perhaps it was the utterly serious look on Vince's face as he stressed the fact that he didn't want to be seen as a freak. Whatever the cause, Howard found himself throwing his head back and belting out a laugh that lasted much longer than he'd intended it to. He held his aching middle as he pitched forward and laughed deliriously.

Catching his breath finally, Howard looked down at Vince, and seeing the boy sitting there with his brows raised as if to ask if _Howard_ were alright 'up there', Howard broke off into a fit of chuckling. Giving up all air of authority, Howard sat down with a sigh of relief onto the bench next to Vince.

"So you can speak to animals, can you?"

Howard smiled down at Vince, who nodded slowly with a look of suspicion in his eyes. Howard remembered his vow to humor the child through his delusions, and so resolved not to laugh in his face at how ridiculous and _crazy_ he sounded. Circus freak? Fuck, Vince was reaching higher than that. Much higher.

Looking closely at the boy, he still seemed quite a bit on edge, and Howard felt satisfied that he not only had indeed made an impact on the kid, but that he seemed to be bracing himself for more, in case Howard wasn't done with his lecture. Maybe this keeper schtick wouldn't be so bad after all, if he could ingrain _some _form of obedience into the child. On second thought, maybe he had been a bit too harsh; Vince was shaking. Out of fear? Maybe the bear scared him more than he let on. Had Howard scared him? No wait, he was _shivering_.

Howard felt like a total ass for not noticing until just then, but Vince never brought a coat along. In fact, Howard hadn't seen his pink one since, well...since months ago, the day before he fell into Howard's sitting room through his window.

"Are you cold? You should've brought your coat." Howard said in a gentle tone as he scooted closer to the boy, whose arms were still crossed for warmth now than out of indignation.

"Don't have my coat no more." Was all the child offered back as he leaned into Howard's side, shivering even more as part of his body was warmed while the other side remained chilled. Howard once again cursed the temperature of this goddamn building. He wanted to badger Vince about his coat, but seeing the boy's eyes flutter closed, he decided against it.

Howard really wanted to get back to the entrance of this place. Out to the payphones he knew were at the front gates. So Howard unbuttoned his large red jacket and stood up, causing Vince to start awake and look up at him with a curious expression on his face.

"This cold's making my hip hurt. Why's it doing that?"

Howard just sighed and, after a few seconds of internal deliberation, sat back down again. He took ahold of the child and sat him again in his lap, this time facing him. He then buttoned his jacket back up, grateful that the thing was quite loose on him to begin with. This way they'd _both_ keep warm while Howard made the long trek back to the front of the goddamn fucking Tundra World from hell. Vince held himself stiff in Howard's hold for a moment, then with a grateful noise leaned forward, resting his head on Howard's shoulder and wrapping his arms around the young man's middle. He really seemed out of it, and when Howard glanced at his watch he realised why. It was 9:19!

Grunting with his burden as he stood, Howard laced his fingers together under the boy to hold him up. Vince got the idea and wrapped his legs around Howard's waist, mumbling a "thank you" into Howard's shoulder as the teenager made his way back to where he remembered seeing the map.

* * *

Nearly an hour later and Howard was cursing loudly once more, waking Vince from the doze he'd fallen into.

_'It fucking figures. Those bastards leave a cage door unlocked for any wandering child to walk through, and then go and lock up the entrance to the entire fucking building!'_

Howard considered searching for a back exit to the place, but remembering just how large it was admitted defeat and looked about the front room for a place to settle down for the night. Vince was shivering still, so Howard made his way to a section of the room that held clothing and other such trinkets to buy. Sadly there were no coats. The wankers who ran this madhouse wouldn't think to put some of _those_ up for sale, now would they! But he did see a few little snow hats on a rack. Little puffballs dangled on strings from each side, with a large puffball perched right on top. Picking a pink one from the rack, Howard scrounged around one-handed in his pocket, and then threw the rest of his money on the till with a sigh of defeat. Picking a corner that wasn't covered in fake snow, Howard slid down to the floor. He tore the pricetag off the hat, and pulled it over the kid's head. Vince stirred again at this and reached up to feel the hat. He held one of the puffs in his hand and smiled at it, letting it as well as his head drop back down onto Howard's chest.

Howard leant back, wedged into the corner, and let his own head drop against one wall as he shifted to get as comfortable as was possible. Exhaustion hit him like a brick as soon as he settled down, and Howard floated about on the edge of consciousness. Vince's snoring started up after a while, and Howard smiled in amusement as he too dropped off into a foggy sleep.

(any and all reviews are treasured! Feel free to send opinions, suggestions, critisizm and even flames, they really get me motivated to write faster!)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Howard wanted to lock each and every memory of the morning after the zoo trip away forever and _never_ take them out again. From waking up at four in the morning to some brash man blaring _"What are you doing here!? The zoo is closed!"_ to explaining himself, blushing and still half-asleep. Then the phone call to his mother, feeling like a twelve-year-old in the Headmaster's office. And finally, getting to ride the three hours home while listening to his mother lecture him. All through this Vince clung to his front like a baby koala, refusing to be put down, even when Howard attempted to several times. On second thought, maybe that last one wasn't so bad. Seeing a disheveled young man with a sleepy child in his arms had seemed to calm the zoo employees. He was _certain_ they were ready to ring the police until they noticed the boy. And his mother stopped lecturing him when they arrived home, which was a miracle in itself, and all through her tirade she had kept shooting looks at Howard and Vince that he didn't even _want_ to try to translate.

Arriving home, and effectively storing away the memories of the past few hours, Howard ignored his mother and her looks entirely and instead focused on the kid. He still seemed out of it, and Howard suspected he might not have slept as much as he let on. Carrying the boy, still tucked in his jacket, up the stairs, Howard sat on his bed. He unbuttoned his jacket and laid the boy down on top of the duvet, red jacket pulled over him. Vince curled on his side in a tight ball, arms finding the sleeve holes on the jacket and sliding into them practically on instinct. His hands only reached halfway, leaving the rest of the sleeves to fold across the bed.

Deciding that they were just not going to school today, Howard heaved a sigh and let himself be lazy. He lay down on the other side of the bed, not bothering with the duvet either, and just let himself drift in and out of sleep, snoring from the kid lulling him into a relaxed state.

* * *

A rainy summer's morning found Howard sitting on his bed leafing through the paper in search of prospective jobs. Vince lay across the floor on one of Howard's pillows, reciting the French words that Howard had written down for him days ago. Even though it had been over four months ago, Howard hadn't forgotten his gift to the boy, and he was determined to have the child speaking _one_ language fluently.

Howard had indeed managed to graduate from school, passing some classes with flying colors and barely scraping by in others. But he was officially _done _with school, something that for a few weeks had filled him with a sense of contentment. That content soon gave way to panic as Howard tried to envision the rest of his life he had ahead of him. He was nearing eighteen, he very well couldn't be living off his mother any longer! He needed a job, and soon. How else would he be able to get a car and an apartment? But as was Howard's luck, he had been searching high and low for openings anywhere and everywhere in the districts outside of Mitcham, and had come up empty. There had been a few interviews he'd went to, mainly for jobs in Sutton, but none of them ever called back, so Howard resigned himself to searching again and again. He was stretching his search further and further from Mitcham.

He hadn't told Vince any of this; in fact he didn't tell the boy _anything_ about his dreams of leaving this London cesspool and never looking back. He knew the minute he was out of the house his mother would more than likely pack up and move herself somewhere nicer; a small apartment in a big city with parties and clubs open all night, perhaps. This house was always meant to be temporary. Howard himself wasn't sure where he'd end up, but if something went well with one of these blasted interviews, he might be able to kiss Mitcham and everything in it goodbye forever.

And there was his dilemma. _Everything_ in Mitcham, including one small little boy whom half a year before he'd sworn to take with him on his upward journey through life. There were a few mad moments, mostly when Howard was lying awake at night, when he honestly considered just taking the kid with him. He doubted the guardians would notice. But of course that was stupid. If they or someone else _did_ notice, Howard would be getting a one-way ticket to prison for kidnap. Also there was the fact that Howard was entirely uncertain as to where he'd live or how he would feed himself once he was out on his own in the world. Once he took that initial step out the door he would never look back. No matter what, Howard would never be one of those that ran back to their mommies, unable to handle it alone. Howard knew it would be difficult, and didn't even want to contemplate how impossible it would be to care for a child through all of that. How young parents did it was a mystery to the young man, and he just wasn't cut out for it. No, for the kid's sake, he'd have to remain here in his home, where he had food and shelter and an education to gain.

Howard would attempt to keep in contact as much as possible, of course, but he had a feeling the kid might not take the news of Howard's plans so well. Since school had let out Vince had spent literally every day at Howard's. He began bringing with him small things once more, and just last night had stayed on, despite Howard's protests that his guardians would worry. Vince had shrugged the questions off, and then snuggled down into Howard's bed and promptly fell asleep. Howard just didn't have the heart to wake him and force him out of the house, although he was certain the kid was faking it. Instead he'd slumped to the hallway closet to gather spare blankets and pillows to make a bed for himself on the floor of his bedroom. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was to become a new habit of the kid's, this staying through the night.

Howard pulled himself from his thoughts, pencil still poised, hovering over the papers and fliers laid out on his bed. He looked down at Vince, spread out on the remains of Howard's makeshift bed, going through the words one more time. He seemed determined to learn the language, which Howard was delightfully surprised at. He'd soon have the kid speaking full sentences at this rate.

If Howard were to be honest with himself, he'd admit that he could spend the rest of his life in this summer. If it could just go on forever, he'd very well go on with it. Spending mornings cooking breakfast for Vince and himself as his mother got ready for her job. Whiling away the hours teaching French to Vince, who was quite sharp when he applied himself. Howard could even spend the rest of eternity sleeping on the hard floor of his bedroom, relinquishing his warm bed to the kid.

_But_, as Howard kept reminding himself, nothing could last forever. This summer would end. The kid would be starting up a new year of school, and if Howard's plans went right, he'd be out of here soon after. The kid would be fine. He'd survived this long on his own without Howard, and he would get on just as well once Howard was gone. Now, if only Howard had enough confidence in that thought so he could tell the child. Howard felt like a right coward for being so weak when anything _near_ the topic of his future came up. Any time Vince asked about his job hunting, Howard would stutter out a meek response and then launch into his own questions on how far along the kid was in his French lesson for the day. When his mother brought up the subject, Howard practically sank through the floor, and muttered out half-sentences.

No, if Howard were to be honest with himself, he really _could_ spend the rest of eternity just like this. He was afraid. He was positively petrified at the idea of being completely and utterly on his own. Alone without a house to come home to, or a pantry filled with food whenever he needed it. He'd have to buy his own food, his own clothes, his own house. He'd have bills; maybe a rent payment, if he got an apartment like he planned. There was no certainty of getting plenty to eat every day. That had Howard wanting nothing more than to stop time and just spend the rest of his days here in the safety of his home with his mother and Vince, the only two people he cared for anymore. The entire world could go up in flames for all he cared, so long as he could spend forever in this house with these two people, he'd be alright.

Shoving the papers and these increasingly pathetic thoughts away, Howard stood from the bed and moved over to the small window. He looked out into the street below, rain pelting down. Howard then turned to Vince, who had gone silent to watch him, and sat down with a grunt on the floor beside him to coach him on what he had learned so far. Yes, he'd have this kid speaking fluent French in less than a month, at this rate.

* * *

Haaagagaga: Sorry that was so short. It's sort of like the window into the middle half of this fic. Things have been going very slowly in this first half, but they pick up in the middle and then rocket off to the moon in the last half, I assure you. I already have an ending planned out and several chapters outlined, so fear not!

Have been having a bit of writer's block, though, so any comments/critiques/flames are very appreciated, and really _do_ help me to write faster! I always perform better if I know I have an audience :)

Listened to Enjoy The Silence by Depeche Mode for this one. That song really fits Howard's feelings at this moment in his life.


	11. Chapter 11

ISOKTOBA: Chapter 11 everybody. Listened to Organeum by Girls in Hawaii while writing it, cause that's such a great song and really fits the atmosphere of this ch, as well as holding a huge hint as to the next chapters.

Chapter 11

Howard heard Vince entering the front door from down the hallway. All yesterday afternoon Howard had dropped hints and implications to an outing he had planned for the two of them today. Vince had seemed a little skeptical, and Howard was certain the boy was conjuring up images of another boring art museum excursion. Howard wished he knew if there _was_ indeed a museum along the way to their actual destination, just so he could look at the kid's face as they drove up to it. Isabella had surprised Howard with her permission for him to borrow the car for the day, and Howard had nearly leaped into the air.

The young man could hear his mother and the kid speaking in the sitting room, and finished digging around in the storage closet. He checked over everything that now lay in a heap at his feet, making sure they had all they would need. Satisfied, Howard grabbed as much as he could carry and made his way toward the two currently speaking at lightening-speed. It amazed Howard how the two seemed to speak over one another, and yet still understood what the other was saying, and with the tv blaring, no less!

Howard sighed and proceeded past them and out the front door. He opened the boot and stuffed the supplies in as far as they could go. He made one more trip before he had everything, struggling briefly with the poles, eventually just stuffing them into the backseat. Howard then went back indoors and into the sitting room, standing there for nearly a minute before either occupants noticed him.

Vince looked up at him and smiled, speech halting mid-sentence. He stood from his place on the sofa beside Howard's mother and Howard smiled down at the curious nervousness in the boy's eyes. Ignoring the silent question, the teenager smiled again and gestured for Vince to follow him. As they turned, Isabella sat up in her seat, looking over her shoulder at them.

"Do you have the keys?"

Howard turned back to her and patted his left pocket. As he turned back around, Isabella continued to call out.

"What about spare money? Wear your safetybelts, boys!"

"Yes, mom, we know!" Howard called over his shoulder as he shepherded the boy through the door quickly before his mother could send any more inquiries his way, or worse, change her mind and decide it was simply too dangerous to allow her son out on his own, and with the kid, no less.

Moving around the car to open the passenger door, Howard waited for Vince to settle himself in before closing it and going back around to the driver's seat. Once behind the wheel, he glanced over at the boy, who was busy standing on his knees facing the backseats, staring at the fishing poles currently bent up against the roof of the vehicle.

"Seatbelt."

Howard expected immediate questions, but the child surprised him by mutely turning about, sitting down once more and pulling on his seatbelt. He gave Howard a quick look that was unable to be read before he turned and looked out the car window. Howard wasn't certain if this were a good or bad thing, and started up the engine in silence, trying to remember the map directions he had looked up in the local library.

* * *

A few hours later, in which Howard had gotten lost thrice, they pulled up along a grassy hill overlooking a wide river. Howard got out of the car and made his way to the boot, taking out all of the fishing equipment he had found crammed into the back of the storage closet. It'd been years since it had been used, but everything had looked alright, and Howard really didn't want to have to buy more supplies. He heard Vince dragging the two poles out of the backseat, and quickly made his way to the kid.

"Watch the hooks, they're still attached."

Howard took the fishing poles from the boy into one hand while shutting the boot and locking the car with the other. He then grabbed up the biggest bag, leaving the smaller one and tacklebox for Vince to carry. The boy still hadn't said a word, or even questioned why they were going fishing of all things.

Down by the water's edge was a small building with two docks, both holding various boats in all sizes. Howard had thought to phone ahead, once he'd looked up the number, and had rented a small but sturdy wooden boat. He waved at the owner of the boat rental as they made it across the first dock, the old wood swaying slightly beneath their feet. Vince dutifully set the bag containing first aid supplies (better safe than sorry) and the tackle box under a wooden bench at one end of the boat, climbing in after and taking a seat. Howard did the same with his bag, which held their food for the day.

Howard pulled on his life jacket, which had come with the boat, making sure the child was doing the same with his own. He carefully placed both fishing poles on the floor of the boat, picking up an oar in each hand. With one last wave toward the old man observing them, Howard untied the boat and took off at a slow pace, oars making the only sound as they pushed them across the water's surface.

Howard continued to paddle until they'd rounded a bend in the river, some fifteen minutes from their car. He finally deemed this a good place to settle and let the current carry them further from the docks. He looked across at Vince, who was leaning on his side, arms gripping the edge of the boat, looking down into its depths.

"See anything?"

Howard felt a bit unsettled by the kid's silence, and so had thrown out the first question that came to his mind. The boy shook his head, sitting upright once again and looking to Howard, as if waiting for further instruction. Howard took this as his cue to get out the tackle box from under the boy's seat and open it. As the young man busied himself with preparing their fishing rods, he talked to fill the silence.

"My mom made me spend one summer in a camp for children. Was just another attempt to try and get me to make friends...It didn't work. I spent nearly the entire summer keeping to myself. The only thing I really enjoyed about the camp was the lake beside it. A camp instructor taught me how to fish, or tried to. She wasn't very good, and neither am I, but she taught me the basics; like how to place a hook, or how to fix a tangled line. Things like that. I ended up spending the rest of the summer down by the lake, just sitting with my thoughts, occasionally catching a fish or two. I still sometimes like to go out on a boat for a day, though I hardly ever catch anything. But fishing's really not about fishing, after all-"

"What do you mean, 'course fishing's about fishing. What else?"

"...No, you see, fishing is about nature, about sitting with your thoughts. It's about reflecting on one's life, abo-"

"That sounds rubbish, I wanna catch a huge fish!"

With that, Vince took up his pole, which Howard had prepared only a moment ago, and cast it into the water. Or tried to, at least. His befuddled expression when he looked out onto the water, only to discover his baited hook still hanging in mid-air, caused the argument on Howard's lips to morph instead into laughter. The boy gave him a dirty look as he begrudgingly handed his rod back to Howard, who patiently demonstrated how to properly cast a line out.

Once the kid had figured out how to cast and reel back in his hook, the two lapsed into companionable silence for a little while, occasionally speaking up when one spotted a rather large fish near the surface. Vince seemed determined to catch a prize winner, while Howard was content to just lean forward in his seat and let his mind drift with the stream.

* * *

The sun was lowering over the water when Howard snapped awake. Hell, he'd fallen asleep sitting up! Mind still adrift, Howard reeled back in his line. No fish seemed to be biting today; ah well. Howard placed his rod back down onto the floor of the boat, looking about him in the stillness of the air. Occasionally a bird would call out from the forest, but other than that all was quiet. Howard felt peacefulness settle over him, and tried not to fall back asleep as he fumbled about for the oars, deciding to head back to shore before it grew dark.

Wait. Had Howard come here alone? He'd had someone with him this time- THE KID! Peace shattered like glass in Howard's ribcage, becoming shards of panic that tore into his chest. He looked wildly about him once more, not seeing the boy anywhere. His gaze searched over the water. What if the boy couldn't swim!? Hell, Howard couldn't! Howard then saw to his dread, the small life jacket lying underneath Vince's empty seat. Fuck.

'_Oh god oh god oh god oh god!_'

"Vince!"

Suddenly a dark head poked out of the water, breathing in deeply. Rage and relief butted heads inside of Howard, leaving the young man feeling whiplashed. Distantly he noted with amazement how long the child had held his breath under the water. Howard nearly stood up in the boat, stopping himself short as common sense reemerged. He called once more out to the boy, who swiveled in the water to face Howard. Howard dropped the oars, making a very sharp 'come here _now_' gesture. The boy quickly swam back to the boat, pulling himself up and inside. He didn't even get a chance to sit down before Howard was pulling him up by his shoulders.

"I fall asleep and you go _diving_! Am I never going to be allowed a moment's peace with you!?"

Howard was honestly gearing up to give the child from hell a few smacks for giving his poor heart a turn, as well as a few grey hairs (Howard could feel them practically spring up!) when the boy interrupted his thoughtstream with quick words.

"I was just looking for the funk!"

"...the what now?"

"The funk! You know, the sorta alien little ball, made all outta tits. It's said to give someone the power to be a rockstar! But the stupid Parliament went an' lost it. And so the funk is lyin' somewhere on the bottom of this river. I was just lookin' for it, cause if I find it, I can become a star! Vince Noir, rock n roll star, they'll call me; has a ring to it, yeah?"

Somewhere along the story Howard had relinquished his grip on the boy, letting them both settle back in their respective seats. Howard sat forward, elbows resting on his knees and his head propped up on his hand. As silence thickened around them Howard simply stared at the boy, who shivered a bit in the cold air and stared right back. Howard opened his mouth, and it was a full minute before words came out.

"...So you're telling me...that there is currently a big ball of breasts lying somewhere on the bottom of this lake. And that this very ball can give the owner the power to be a celebrity."

"Yeah, and I was jus' lookin' for it after you fell asleep. I would've asked, but I didn't wanna wake you up. You look real tired all the time, y'know."

Howard really didn't have anything else to add to this warped conversation, and if the kid kept behaving as though he were worried for Howard's health, the man might just loose some of his anger, which he had every right to feel toward the damn brat! With a long sigh, Howard took up the oars and made for the docks. The current had drifted them quite far, and the teenager inwardly groaned at how long it would take to paddle back.

"I think...that this is the last time I'll take you _anywhere_ for...at least five years."

"Wot! How come!?"

"Because you are the human embodiment of a heterodox. And you're rendering me blind, deaf and dumb."

"What's a heterodox?"

"Nothing."

"Is it...quelque chose de bon?"

"...Oui."

* * *

Howard now stood in front of a tall dark building, clutching directions written out by Vince the day before. He had arranged with Vince to meet him outside his house every morning to escort him to the school, as Howard no longer had classes of his own.

Well, here it was, Howard finally knew where Vince lived. Surprisingly, the boy had been the one to suggest it. The house itself was tall but narrow, and obviously very old. It was made mainly of dark, ancient wood, and would have been lovely if not for its run-down appearance. The lawn was in total dissarray, broken toys and pieces of tattered furniture littering it. One window was boarded up, while faded drapes closed off the rest from the outside world. It was now seven in the morning, and Vince should be emerging any minute now. Howard wanted terribly to go into the building and see the place, meet the guardians, as well as the other children that Howard had heard lived with Vince. Two girls, was it? He was beyond curious, but held his ground on the pavement.

Shaggy blond hair greeted Howard as Vince crept from behind the front door. He walked up to Howard, face blank, and grabbed his hand, silently leading him back the way he came. Howard suspected Vince wasn't entirely comfortable having Howard see his home, so he chose to not ask questions and just allow the boy to lead the way.

The trek to the primary school took about fifteen minutes, and the two walked in a comfortable silence the entire way. Coming to a water puddle in the road created by the rains, Howard grasped Vince by both of his hands and swung him over the puddle. This worked in making the kid grin, and Howard continued their walk, considering it mission accomplished. In too short a time they were standing outside the schools, the sound of children and teens filling the air.

"Now, do you know where your new class is? And you have all your things as well? Maybe I should check your bag-"

"Howard. I'm not a baby."

Howard moved his mouth silently at being interrupted right in the middle of making a fool of himself. He and Vince stood in front of the primary school, children piling into the building like lambs. Howard conceded to Vince's look of impatience, and let the boy off with a "goodbye" and a pat on the head. Vince ducked under his hand, grinning, and raced up the steps to the front entrance, dissapearing amongst the throng. Howard felt rather proud of himself for not following the kid into the building like he saw some other parents doing.

* * *

This new routine went on for two months. Howard's daily schedule now consisted of walking the boy to school, returning home, and then spending the entire day searching about for jobs. It was becoming exhausting, this endless scouring for work. All the places available were either out of his league, or so dirt cheap it wasn't worth it.

His mother did surprised him with a car for his eighteenth birthday, however. It was old and rusted, but it ran well enough to get Howard around South London, where he went for interview after interview. Vince had seemed incredibly upset at not being able to afford a gift for Howard, and so had settled for giving the man a small painting he had done in school. Howard loved it, or would've, had the painting not caused an argument between him and Vince. Seriously, a balloon!?

Currently he was on his way to see about an available position in Wimbledon, at a zoo. Howard hadn't thought much of such a position at first, but he was far past desperate. And apparently the job didn't require a zookeeper's license or even a CV.

Howard thanked the heavens that he'd arrived on time for the interview, even though he had left two hour early and gotten lost four times. As he pulled his car up to the gate a man walked over to him, looking shrewdly at Howard.

"Who're you?"

"Oh, um, I'm Howard Moon. I have an interview? With a Mr. Nooka."

"Oh right, he did mention someone'd be around for that. Go on through."

The man unlocked the gate and let Howard enter. Before Howard could take a single step forward, however, he turned back around to look at the guardsman with a lost expression.

"Um, actually, would you mind telling me where the uh, the main office is?"

The man gestured with his hand, "You'll want to keep goin' straight 'til you reach the centre, that's when you'll turn to your left, and there it is. Good day."

Howard muttered out a farewell as well before making his way through the zoo, both nervous and mesmerised. This place was incredible! Even on off hours, with no guests about, the zoo seemed so very alive and beautiful. Howard felt his steps grow surer as he found the building labeled 'main office'.

Upon entering, Howard was met with a short man in a pale blue safari outfit. He had quite an intimidating mustache, and an even more intimidating stare, as he silently beckoned Howard to follow him. The man gave off certain vibes that made Howard want to turn tail and leave, but he sucked in a quick breath and followed, and was led down the hall and into a back office, where he was left.

Howard had been so focused on keeping a measurable distance from the blue-shirted man as he left that he failed to notice the _also_ short man sitting behind the large desk. When he finally did, the man smiled at him with no hint of malice, and Howard inwardly relaxed, glad that he hadn't somehow come to the zoo of squat angry men.

"You must be Howard Moon. I'm glad you could make it, we're in terrible need of another zoo employee. My name's Tommy Nooka, we spoke over the phone."

"Ah, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've read about you before, and that one time you were on the news for helping to excavate that Egyptian crypt..."

Howard let himself trail off. He was beginning to rabbit on, just like the damn kid. The young man was relieved to note that Nooka didn't seem at all annoyed with Howard. In fact, the man gave off the very essence of calm as he stood from his chair and made his way around it, ushering Howard through the door and back down the hall. He took Howard on a small tour of the zoo, highlighting all that would be done if he were to accept the position, and how each staff was assigned a certain area or group of animals to watch over. He even introduced him to a few of the keepers as they passed them. The job sounded tiring, and there wouldn't be much time for anything else, much less a social life, Nooka warned. Howard smiled, stating that that was fine, as he didn't have much on anyway. They had shared a laugh, and before Nooka could even ask, Howard was accepting the job with more enthusiasm than he'd thought he would feel.

(Reviews are my sustenance! Don't deny me my sustenance! Please~

this is officially the second half of the first series, hope you all enjoy this ch and what is to come.)


	12. Chapter 12

Headdeskfloorearthcore: NOT happy with the beginning of this, but my writer's block is keeping me from improving it further (i.e. staring at it and screaming) so here ya go!

Chapter 12

Howard Moon couldn't believe his luck! He had scored a job at the Zooniverse on the edge of Wimbledon. It was run by a stout man named Tommy Nooka, whom Howard immediately felt drawn to for his arcane wisdom and knowledge of the world. He was apparently a well-known explorer, and had traversed the world, bringing back artifacts for museums and animals for his zoo. One such item was an Egyptian statue of a head he had brought back about a year before Howard arrived. Nooka was more than happy to spin the tale of its discovery to Howard, who felt giddy and humbled to be in the presence of such a man of action. Nooka proudly displayed the statue on the wall of his office, for all to see. In his free time Howard liked to stare at it, imagining his own life under the teachings of Tommy. He too could one day be a true man of action, a great explorer.

The zoo itself was a magnificent menagerie of exotic creatures from the far corners of the earth. Howard found himself bowled over by the sheer beauty of the place! It was a modest-sized zoo, but it more than made up for it in class and pride. Howard got on relatively well with the other employees. He formed a sort of friendship with one man named Joey Moose, who had just started a few weeks before Howard.

Howard also found he needn't worry about a place to live. Nooka arranged for Howard to stay in the Keeper's Lodge, a small building in a corner of the zoo. It was a bit spooky at night, with nothing for company but the sounds of the animals, but it was better than scrounging the area for an apartment. His living on zoo ground caused a bit of an argument between Tommy and Dixon Bainbridge. Howard wasn't sure why his presence in the zoo at closing hours would bother Bainbridge so much, but from then on the man seemed to regard Howard with distaste. This dislike was shared with another guy named Robert Fossil, or Bob, as he preferred. He played the role of Bainbridge's lackey to the nines, trailing after the man, neglecting his own duties in the aquarium. Howard himself, after caring for the frogs and newts for a few weeks, was assigned over to hoofed mammals as his area to manage, and it was right next to the Reptile House.

Howard was tending to the antelope one evening, hauling a wheelbarrow of dung outside the enclosures, when he spotted her; Mrs. Gideon. He didn't know her name at the time, but he _did_ know that he was absolutely smitten on the spot. She was exiting the Reptile House, and Howard floated after her without being aware of it. She headed for the main building, seemingly on her way to the Chief Manager office. Opening the door and stepping inside, Howard stood in the doorway, mouth hanging, in awe of her. He was so captured that he failed to notice that the door was on a spring mechanism, and it quickly swung back to meet him on the nose.

After that day Howard found out everything he could about her from the other keepers. She was a divorcee, and was older than Howard by a few years. She carried herself with such sophistication and poise that the poor young man couldn't help but go wobbly-kneed at the sight of her. He contented himself with spending his days looking after the deer and antelope, keeping a distant watch over Gideon any time she emerged from the depths of the Reptile House.

All in all, Howard felt that he couldn't be happier. He'd grown rather fond of the little antelope in their exhibits, and was even able to spend time with the other animals on his off hours. One such animal that grew a liking to him was a little fox kit that had been bought for the zoo by Dixon through shady means, Howard was sure. The poor little thing was terrified, alone in it's cage. Howard spent much of his free time feeding and nurturing the little guy, aptly named Cooper.

Howard developed a friendship with the various employees, and they would occasionally spend afternoons hanging around the centre of the zoo, chatting until closing hours. One strange man, Graham, insisted on seeing his zoo pass before letting him through the front gates after closing hours when Howard went out for groceries. He seemed to never be able to remember who Howard was, and often zapped Howard with his electrical baton until he gave in and showed his pass. Why they employed someone as incompetent as Graham for guard duty was beyond Howard.

Howard was still very much a loner, even as his school days grew distant and the years passed by him. He poured his heart into the zoo, even going out of his own field in the hoofed mammals to help out others in their areas. He found himself picking up the slack left by some of the less enthusiastic members of the Zooniverse, namely Fossil. He also enjoyed long afternoons either listening to Tommy's tales of adventure, or watching Gideon from the kitchen window of the Lodge, feeling quite like a creeper but not able to control himself.

Occasionally, when he lay awake at night, curled up on the small sofa in the Lodge, Howard's thoughts would stray from the deers' new diet to Bainbridge's latest quips at his expense, and eventually his mind would land on a certain child, who's long-lost pink coat continued to haunt the edges of Howard's dreams. In the passing years Howard had sent one letter to Vince's address. He never did receive a reply, which didn't surprise him. Oh, Howard's stomach knotted up just remembering that day. The day he finally told Vince that he was to be leaving. Because he was a blooming coward, Howard had told Vince the day before he was set to leave. In hindsight, this was a bad move.

Howard admitted that he was stunned at the boy's reaction. He'd truly underestimated how attached to him the child had become. Well, there was no sense in dredging up bad memories. That was all in the past, now three years ago. He had sent the letter about a month after his leave, and three years of no return letter was reply enough to Howard that the kid never wanted to speak to him again. It hurt Howard, deep deep down in the depths of his being where he refused to tread, it hurt to be brushed off and ignored by Vince.

And so Howard would lie awake into the late hours of the night, thinking about Vince. Poring over fond memories, and imagining what the boy might be up to. He had to be eleven years old now. Howard found himself unable to imagine what the child must look like at eleven, or even beyond. Surely even _he_ had grown, petit little thing that he was. Howard just couldn't imagine those frail little bones stretching and growing out. No matter how many years passed by him, Howard would always remember Vince Noir as the eight-year-old little kid in that big pink coat.

* * *

Over the passing years Howard tried all he could to shove the memory of the child into a lock-box in his mind. He spent every waking minute on his job, investing all he had into the zoo and its animals. He spent every hour he could with his hero Tommy, who had taken him under his wing as a pupil of sorts, promising to take Howard with him on his next adventure in the coming year, deep into the heart of Spain.

Tommy's disappearance not two months later all but shattered Howard's heart. He was now left alone in this zoo, which quickly turned from a sanctuary into something foreign and ugly under the care of Bainbridge, who, as second-in-command, took up the role of owner over night. He named Fossil as the new Chief Manager; no surprise there. Fossil even took to wearing Bainbridge's old Manager's uniform, even though the clothes were much too small for the larger man. Together the two of them made damn sure that nothing of Nooka's dreams for the zoo remained. The menagerie wonderland was no more, replaced with a shoddy, run-down zoo, and Howard found himself dreading the days when he was made to act on the whims of Fossil, who loved nothing more than to send Howard out on mundane and useless tasks.

Howard considered up and leaving the zoo many times, but knew in his heart that he could never desert the place. To do so would be to abandon the memory of Tommy, and the animals who Howard still cared very much for. He did take up odd jobs here and there outside the zoo, though. He _had_ to, Bainbridge had cut everyone's salary nearly in half, and most of the keepers quit that very day. They were soon replaced by people Howard had less hope for. They barely did their jobs, huddling together in the centre of the zoo, doing god-knows-what. One such shady employee was a short man everyone called Naboo. He set up a small kiosk right next to the Lodge, claiming to be a shaman. Of course, this was obviously a ruse. Anyone with eyes could see that what he was selling out his window certainly wasn't potions or spells. He even had the audacity to bring his slimy friends over during business hours, and smoke could be seen wafting through the cracks in the kiosk door, making Howard shake his head in disgust.

Howard very nearly cried when Bainbridge began selling many of the animals of the zoo. First the small asian elephant, then a few of the deer; next to go were the lemurs, and more followed. Howard didn't even _want _to keep count anymore. Howard got into a bit of a fist brawl with Fossil, when the man had tried to take Cooper. Howard hadn't won; he'd been laid out flat by the ex-soldier. But Fossil left Cooper well enough alone after that, so it was kind of a victory. Of course, this caused Fossil to begin spreading absurd rumors about the nature of Howard's bond with the little fox.

Bainbridge _did_ buy a few animals for the zoo, although their quality was somewhat lacking. One such animal was Tony the prawn, an animal Howard was made to look after. Tony was more than a little creepy when one was alone in the aquarium with him. He would just stare up at Howard, making no move, even when offered food.

Another addition to the Zooniverse was Bollo, an ancient silver-backed gorilla, who Fossil let slip had been bought off of a local circus. The poor wretch was nearly deaf, and spent most his time sitting in his exhibit, listlessly playing with leaves. Howard tried to be friendly with him once, going into the cage and attempting to form a bond like the one he had with Cooper. This plan failed. Bollo hated men. Hated them all. He only ever let the female employees into his exhibit to feed him. The one time Howard went in there alone the ape had gone at him, fists raised high and shrieking terribly. Howard practically fazed through the cage door. After that he developed a slight disdain for the old ape. He didn't hate him, but damn was he never going near him again.

Only three other keepers aside from Howard stayed on. Graham was one, unfortunately. The other two were Moose and Gideon, who, like Howard, stayed out of love for the animals. Gideon would die before abandoning her precious snakes, and Moose felt likewise for his little marsupials. Howard was just glad that he wasn't the only one left in the Zooniverse who remembered the golden days when Tommy ran it. He and Joey even attempted one night to break into Fossil's office and drag up something to use as blackmail, but sadly came up emtpy-handed, aside from some embarrassing photos in a locked drawer.

* * *

Four more years passed in a daze for Howard. He stood, sporting a bit of a hangover, on the curb of town, trying desperately to sell some Batman capes he had found dumped out the back of a toy shop. He _needed_ to sell these things, or else he might not have enough money to eat in the coming week. Bainbridge had cut their pay again! Most of the employees were now keeping outside jobs, which caused their performance in the zoo to plummet even further.

"Two pounds! Two pounds yer Batman cape!" Was the monotonous shouting Howard did at the passersbys. So far he had managed to sell one to the mother of a kid who'd kicked and screamed at her all the way down the block until she turned around with a defeated look and bought one off him. He really shouldn't have let Joey talk him into going to the pub again last night; he was sure to get a migraine if another car blared its horn like that. He closed his eyes to the bright daylight and continued his shouting, which felt more and more like a dirge as the hours ticked by.

"Two pounds! Batman capes! Two pounds, t-"

_"Howard?"_

Howard's voice went hoarse as his eyes flung open. That accent. No one had said his name in that accent since, well...

Standing a few metres from Howard, having nearly walked right past him, stood a fifteen year old Vince Noir. Howard knew that it _had_ to be Vince. There was no mistaking that face, those eyes, and that voice. Howard's mouth hung open in shock as he beheld the child-no, the _teen _before him, clad in skinny purple jeans and sporting a pink shirt with a yellow skull on it. Paused beside him stood a taller teenager, looking uncertainly between Howard and Vince. Howard paid him absolutely no mind as he and Vince took simultaneous steps toward eachother, coming face to face. The kid had indeed grown; the image of the everlasting eight-year-old shattered in Howard's mind, replaced with this skinny kid who hardly reached Howard's shoulders. His hair was shaggy, coming over his ears and dyed black, with bizarre streaks of red spread through it. His nose was also bent oddly, different than Howard remembered it.

Silence rang out loudly for several lifetimes before Vince's face broke out into a supernova smile and he launched at Howard, wrapping bony arms around Howard's middle, trapping the man's arms stiff at his sides. He impulsively muttered out a "don't touch me", which went completely ignored by the kid, who laughed and clung to him tighter, face buried in Howard's chest. The embrace lasted only a few seconds, but Howard found it was hard to catch his breath, even as the boy let go and turned to his friend, beckoning him over animatedly.

"Leroy, this is my best mate! This here is Howard Moon. Me and him used to be _inseparable._ Ah, the glory days, yeah?"

Howard nodded slightly, and that was all the kid needed to break into another wide grin and begin talking rapidly. Howard couldn't make out half of what he was saying, his ears were rushing too loudly. He needed to sit down. Walking over to the curb, Howard sat down with a sigh, but whatever peace he'd hoped to gain was lost when he was joined by Vince, who sat much too close for Howard's liking. He'd forgotten over the years just how clingy the child was.

Vince continued talking, seemingly relaying his and Howards' 'good times' to Leroy, who appeared amused. Howard was just trying to ride out the shock of seeing the one person he never expected to again. This didn't make any sense. Vince couldn't be this ecstatic to see him. He hated him; he'd said so the day before Howard had left Mitcham, said so several times.

Vince never contacted him, not once. The memory of the letter, never returned, sent prickles of anger through Howard. How dare this kid not bother to reply to Howard's heartfelt letter, which he had slaved over for weeks, filling four full pages with apologies, comforting words, and invitations to visit. How dare he refuse contact with Howard for _seven bleeding years_! Knowing full well where Howard lived. And yet the kid had never written back, never called, never visited. Seven years. Howard had changed so much. He was nobody's keeper; certainly not fifteen year old boys dressed like girls who hugged him in the street despite them practically being strangers.

Howard couldn't take this; he couldn't take a minute more of this boy's prattling voice. It grated on his already burnt out nerves. The kid was practically plastered to his side, so Howard stood up abruptly, feeling very fed up.

"Don't touch me." He said clearly, looking down at Vince, who'd nearly toppled over. Vince looked up at him in bewilderment for a second, then laughed as he stood up.

"He's such a kidder, he's always sayin' that." He said, looking over at Leroy who smirked and nodded.

"I'm not joking. Don't ever touch me, are we clear?"

With that Howard swept off down the street, capes forgotten, and made his way toward the Zooniverse, where he knew Vince wouldn't be permitted to enter as the zoo was closed for Sunday. As he predicted, he heard the insistent clack of cowboy boots on pavement as Vince trailed after him, calling his name repeatedly. Leroy too began to tag along, although when Howard glanced at him as he turned a corner, he didn't seem very happy about chasing down a man he just met. Vince wasn't about to be put off, and Howard could hear the intense whisperings between the two as they followed Howard for several blocks. They were arguing, it appeared. Howard couldn't care less.

All the memories he'd left to gather dust had sprung forth out of that locked up box Howard had put them in. Seeing Vince had been the key that set them free to wreak havoc upon Howard's mind. Only now instead of longing sadness or comfort, the memories just served as fuel to Howard's need to put distance between himself and this kid.

This boy was insane, he remembered. Had given Howard heart failure many a time with his little stunts. Howard was certainly not going back to _that_. No way. He'd be dead before he was thirty! The kid had survived, just as Howard knew he would, for seven years without his help. He'd be fine for seven more, thank you very much.

They finally came upon the gate and Graham, who sat forward in his little chair with brows raised at the three of them. Forgoing their usual argument over his identity, Howard flashed his keeper's pass and slid quickly through the gates, leaving Vince and his friend on the outside world. He could still hear Vince yelling for him and Graham shouting back that the zoo was closed as he slammed the door to the Keeper's Lodge and locked it for good measure. Huffing, Howard sat on the couch and turned on the television, turning the volume up as loud as it would go to drown out the unwanted noise. Now if only he could as easily drown out these unwanted thoughts.

* * *

Several days went by and Howard didn't see the boy again. Even during business hours when visitors came few and far between, no sign of Vince. Howard wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Perhaps the kid had gotten the message, that Howard Moon didn't want to see him _ever_ again. Or maybe he just couldn't be bothered to pay the admission price.

Whatever the cause, Howard went about his routine, shoving each and every memory of the brat, along with this newest addition, back into the box and wrapping chains around it. He had been assigned a new position in the zoo. He was now to man the aviary, which was a surprisingly easy task. Usually Fossil gave him the most difficult positions, like primates. Hmm, must've been a slip of the hand. He just hoped Fossil didn't notice and change him back to the aquarium. Tony really spooked him.

Howard shrugged out of his Keeper jacket and prepared to make himself some tea. While the water boiled he went over to his old gramophone and started up a record, filling the small house with the fine tunes of Coltrane. Just as he made to settle onto the couch, cup in hand, he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Upon opening it he was greeted with the sight of Joey Moose. Moose had been dragging him out to the local pubs every Saturday night for a few years now. It was either a vague attempt at forming a friendship, or Moose just didn't have anyone else to ever go with. Howard normally put up a protest before grudgingly giving in, but this night he felt he really needed something stronger than tea, and was out the door before Joey'd even uttered the usual invitation. The nearest pub was no more than a ten minute walk from the Zooniverse. Neither Moose nor Howard owned a car (Howard had sold his over a year ago), and they had long since grown accustomed to walking everywhere.

Stepping into the smoke-filled air of this rather shoddy brothel, Howard followed Moose over to the corner of the bar. Moose ordered their first drinks, and as was custom, almost immediately spotted someone he knew across the room and rushed over to them, shouting amiably. Howard was used to being left mostly to his own devices, and ordered more drinks as he watched the clock hand move across its face.

Through the haze of laughter and off-key singing, Howard thought he heard catches of a very familiar voice. Turning quickly to look around him, he spotted the goddamn boy, standing awkwardly on the other side of the pub. He seemed to be having a rough time, surrounded by burly men on all sides. They certainly didn't seem happy about Vince being in their pub, done up in eyeliner and rhinestones. Howard turned back to his drinks, but kept one ear keyed on the conversation that was rapidly escalating in volume.

"...don't cater to your types, got it? So you'd best just leave now, botty boy, 'fore somethin' unfortunate happens to that pretty face."

"Piss off, tosser."

No mistaking it, that was the kid's potty-mouth, alright. And it was sure to earn him a beating. Howard whipped around, coming off his stool and stumbling through the crowd; he had to get the kid out of there before he got himself killed!

Everything happened so fast after that. The men made for Vince at the same time. He ducked expertly, causing two of them to crash heads. Another grabbed Vince by the shoulder, but was put on the floor by Vince's fist to his jaw. _That_ had Howard stopping in his haste through the surrounding crowd. When had the kid learned to hit like that! The man looked like he was getting up no time soon, as did the idiots who'd been involved in the accidental headbutt. The fourth thug wisely backed down, drawing away.

Vince's luck seemed to have run dry, however, as both his arms were trapped behind him by one of the remaining men. Howard continued in his struggle through the massing bodies as the sixth man gave a swift punch to Vince's stomach. The kid may have learned a thing or two about fighting, but so had Howard. He launched into the circle created by the surrounding spectators, and delivered quite a nice upper-cut to the bloke currently punching Vince repeatedly about his midsection. The guy crashed backward into the crowd, causing a tangle of bodies and limbs. Vince, coughing slightly, kicked backward with the heel of his boot, and apparently caught the guy trapping his arms right on target, because the asshole immediately let go of Vince and pitched forward, clutching the crotch of his trousers.

Before Howard could think of what to do next, his hand was grabbed by Vince and he was yanked through the gathered pub patrons who were now shouting all manner of curses at them. He could vaguely hear Joey in the din, calling his name. Flying through the front door, Howard was ushered further down the street until he was forced to turn a sharp corner into a narrow alleyway. Finally able to stop, Howard gulped in a lungfull of fresh night air, looking over at Vince, who was bent over, arms around his stomach, panting heavier than Howard.

That dead paternal urge in Howard was resurrected slightly as he moved to stand beside the kid, placing one hand on his shoulder and another on his arms, signaling him to drop them. Vince stood straight, still breathing harshly, as Howard lifted his shirt a bit to see if he'd been caught by a ring or something. Those fucking bar thugs were always wearing rings on their fingers. Howard had seen one fight where a man got hit by a fist with three rings. He never thought simple jewelry could cut somebody up like that.

Luckily no such marks littered Vince's stomach, just red blotches that were soon to be blossoming bruises. Howard breathed deeply in relief, then stepped sharply away from the boy, flinging his arms into the air.

"What do you think you were doing in there!? That's a pub! You're, what, fifteen? And anyway, what are you doing going about dressed like that!? You look like a freakin' girl!"

Vince shifted a bit where he stood, mouth tight and looking very much like the mirage of a time long ago. It made Howard feel a bit dizzy, so he focused hard on the boy's words.

"Well, _you_ went in there, and...I was...Kinda, _maybe _followin' you."

"Stalking, more like! Just how did you know I'd be going out tonight, anyway!"

Howard was getting a sense of horror in his stomach, which grew as Vince talked, looking guiltily at the dirty ground as his voice came out slightly strained.

"Ah, well, you see, I've been..." Vince heaved a heavy sigh and looked Howard in the face, seeming to decide to stop acting shame-faced and be direct. "Yes, alright, I been followin' you. For like five days now I've been coming to where you work and creepin' about watching you. I was...I didn't think you were up to speakin' to me just yet."

Vince went back to studying his boots and Howard studied Vince, eyes narrowed in utter confusion.

"I thought you _hated_ me. I thought you never wanted to see me again. That day, you went absolutely _stark raving mad_! You...you never even wrote back. Why, why, why, on _earth_ would you bloody stalk me if you hated me!?"

Vince's head shot up at the initial 'hated', and through Howard's speech his eyebrows drew further down. With a rueful shake of his head, Vince gave a mirthless laugh.

"I don't hate you, Howard, you nonce! I never did. I was a little kid, for christ's sake! I didn't know what I was sayin', what I was doing, I-"

"You smashed my bloody guitar."

"Yeah...yeah, I did. Sorry about that. I felt right awful, soon as I'd done it. Remember? I up and ran, then and there. I just...I was little! I...You were the first friend I'd ever had. First _real_ friend. First friend I ever _wanted_. I never thought you'd leave. I was such a spaz, I'd made imaginary plans of us growing old, together in good ol' South London. Stupid, innit?"

"Doesn't mean you can...just go traipsing into pubs..."

Howard couldn't finish his sentence, mouth clamping shut instinctively as he felt bile rising in his throat. He stood there with his eyes closed, hand pressed over his forehead. He definitely didn't want to vomit in a slimy alleyway like a drunk. He heard Vince shuffle slowly closer to him. If he wasn't afraid of opening his mouth at the moment, Howard would have uttered another "don't touch me" as Vince stood literally toe to toe with him. The kid had changed as well, that was for sure. He was still very much the same little boy Howard remembered, but there was something off about him now. Something different. Some foreign way in which he carried himself, and the way he was behaving around Howard. It was different. The same, but not. It had Howard more than a little on edge as he kept his eyes closed and fought off waves of nausea.

Feeling heat coming off of Vince's body and mingling with his own, Howard heard the sound of fabric shifting as Vince leaned forward, head almost resting on his chest. He felt the breath of the boy's words ghost over the front of his shirt.

"Je suis désolé."

With a start Howard staggered away from Vince to clutch onto a brick wall and proceeded to puke his guts out.

(I hate begging, but _please_ comment any feelings/hatred/ramblings. Seriously the comment box is right below this! It really does help motivate me, and I'm at a bit of a loss in this story right now...I already have the ending in my head, but I'm quite unsure of how to get there. And a BIG HUG to those who review regularly. You're a big help!)


	13. Chapter 13

BLURSUPONBLURS: Here we are with ch 13! I'm actually quite excited for this second half, even though the third half is giving me pains and writer's block right now X_X. I also got a question about what timeline this is supposed to be taking place in. Well, let me just remind everyone that this story doesn't take place in 'our reality'. It's not the magical realm of The Mighty Boosh, but it's also not _our_ world. That said, for this fic I like to imagine that Vince was born in 1972, and Howard in 1962. You can do the math ;)

Chapter 13

Howard had forgotten to draw the curtains over the windows, and was regretting that slip immensely as bright sunlight poured in to blind him as he attempted to open his eyes and see past the splitting headache. _Thank god_ it was Sunday. For a few delirious seconds he looked about himself in confusion.

_'What the sodding hell am I doing on the floor? Oh. __**Oh. **__Oh, right.'_

Squinting up to his right, Howard saw the sleeping face of Vince. The boy had followed him all the way back to the zoo gates, giving puppy eyes and claims that he had nowhere else to go for the night. Howard had given in, _of course_, and had allowed the little bugger to come with him past Graham and his suspicious glances. He brought out a sleeping bag and pillow, motioning to the kid that he could sleep there for the night. The boy just stood there watching Howard as he lay down on the couch and pulled the thick duvet over himself. He felt awful, and was in no mood to stay up entertaining teenagers.

A while later Howard was pulled from sleep and nearly leapt out of his very skin when he felt the boy squish in beside him on the couch, between the back of the sofa and Howard, resting a cold hand on the man's stomach. Howard took a moment to marvel at the fact that both of them were able to actually fit, without either falling to the floor, before leaping up and off the musty furniture, gawking blearily down at the kid. Vince stared up at him, sleep in his eyes as well, and looking more than a tad put off by Howard's flight attempt.

_'The kid's mental. Remember that, Moon. You let a mental person into your house.'_

Drawing in a shaky breath, Howard made some obtuse motion at the kid that even _he_ didn't understand, and relinquished the sofa to the boy. With stiff movements, Howard lay down on the sleeping bag and jerked the cover over himself. As sleep took him once more he knew that if the kid tried to join him down there he'd be sleeping from the ceiling tonight.

As the memory flooded over Howard, he felt the back of his neck grow hot. Standing up, Howard was gratified to see that the kid had kept to himself on the damn couch. What the hell possessed the child to crawl all over him like a crab in the night was beyond his reckoning. Stark raving bonkers, that boy was. Howard had almost forgotten. And now he was in his home; he knew where he lived, where he worked.

_'Ah hell, Howard. What have you gone and done to yourself!?'_

Raking a hand through his hair, the disheveled man stumbled into the small kitchen, fighting off his headache long enough to make something to eat. He needed to have it cut, Howard thought idly about his hair, it was growing down his neck. Soon he'd look as much like a girl as the kid! Heaving a short laugh at that mental image, Howard set to work putting the tea on and cooking up some waffles. He just barely remembered to cook more than the usual so as to have enough for the kid.

* * *

Howard, plate in hand, stood before the couch, where he usually ate breakfast. Seeing as it was commandeered, Howard had to make due once more with the floor. He had just set his cup down when he heard the duvet being pushed aside and the couch cushions groan as Vince pushed himself up, roused by the scent of food.

Sensing that Vince was looking down at him, Howard picked up his fork and stated in an even tone, "Your plate's in the kitchen."

He felt Vince's eyes tunnel holes into the back of his head for a full minute before the kid rose and went around the corner, leaving Howard to breath and finally be able to actually eat. Now that he thought about it...Howard quickly picked up his tea mug and set it on the small end table beside the couch, planting himself firmly on one side, plate on his lap, and ate his waffles with a battle-like determination.

He was two bites in when Vince plopped down next to him on the other end of the sofa, thankfully not as near as Howard had feared. One thing certainly hadn't changed; the child ate like a starving animal! His food _and_ milk was gone before Howard was halfway through his own plate. Getting up once more, Howard listened as Vince put his dishes into the sink, for Howard to have to wash later.

Setting down once more, Vince kept his distance from Howard, regarding him as one might look upon a spooked animal. Howard felt quite like a caged animal at this point. He had to get out of there; out of the Lodge. Hell, he'd buy a one-way ticket to outer space if it were offered to him.

Finishing his breakfast, Howard choked down his tea and mutely went into the kitchen. Practically throwing the crockery into the sink, Howard proceeded to struggle into his shoes and march out the door into the bright Sunday morning. Bright. Too bright. Howard really didn't think his escape through. His attempt to flee brought to a screeching halt as the ache behind his eyes sharpened into daggers at the glare of the sun.

Putting a hand over his tired eyes, Howard just wanted his couch back. Standing under the shelter of the overhang, he huffed in frustration. Turning on his heel, he stomped noisily back into the hut, closing the door behind him and, eyes still shut, using sheer memory to guide him back to his spot on the couch.

"...Why aren't you in school? Or back in Mitcham?"

"It's summer hols."

Oh. Right. "So what are you doing out here?"

"Well, The Cure had a performance at the Wimbledon theatre. Leroy and I've been savin' up for tickets. He drove us here, and we were stayin' at a little hotel just down the road."

"So why didn't you go back to your hotel room last night?"

"Cause I wanted to go home with _you_."

Opening his eyes, Howard stared at the black screen of the television.

"You never told me why you didn't contact me at all. If you weren't mad at me, why didn't you write, or call."

"...I kinda lost your address."

"What."

There was that flashing word again. Howard couldn't believe it. He _really couldn't believe it. _All this time. All these years. And he never heard from the kid again because...because he lost the address he'd left him in the letter!? The kid seemed to have gotten _more_ dense as he aged, if that were even possible. Howard felt laughter building up inside him, but fought it down. Instead, he turned to the kid and stated in as an authorative tone as he could muster, "I think you should go back to your friend now."

"Wot! Why!?"

"Because I have a blazing headache and you're making it worse. And I need to sleep."

"Then go to sleep, no one's stoppin' you."

"_Vince._ Go."

The kid stared at him incredulously, and Howard thought for a moment that he'd refuse. But with a dramatic sigh, as if he were doing this only to humor Howard, Vince got up from the sofa and made his way brusquely out the door, closing it softly behind him.

And that was it. The boy was gone; finally gone. Howard's eyes closed once more as he lay down on the couch, almost instantly out.

Thank god it was Sunday.

* * *

Wednesday night found Howard carting groceries in one hand and fishing for his pass with the other as he made his way to the Zooniverse gates. Graham stood there for over two minutes looking from Howard's pass up to his face, then at the pass, then back up at Howard again. Finally he seemed to grudgingly accept Howard's identity as an employee of the zoo, and opened the gate for him.

Stepping into the hut, Howard set down his bags, putting away the milk and other food items. The soft melody of strumming guitar strings soothed Howard's overworked mind, and he leaned onto the countertop, closing his eyes and feeling relaxed.

Hold up. Guitar strings?

Standing rigid, Howard walked two steps, coming around the corner and out of the kitchen. How had he missed him?

Sitting on the couch was none other than Vince Noir, child from hell, playing out small tunes on a very beautiful acoustic guitar. Yanking his eyes from the instrument, Howard placed his hands on his hips, moving over to stand in front of Vince, who halted his fingers across the strings and looked up with a smirk playing about his face.

"What are you doing in here? The zoo's closed. How'd you even get past the gate?"

"Oh. That security bloke, he remembered me. Let me right in."

"Right."

Howard made a mental note to jab Graham with his electrical baton the next time he saw him.

Dropping his arms and admitting defeat, Howard slouched down onto the sofa beside Vince, who seemed content enough to just watch him.

Yes; there was definitely something different about Vince. He had sensed it outside the pub that night, and felt it sharply now. Some way in which the boy held himself. Some alien aura radiating off of him, coming out in the way he kept looking at Howard. It was different, and Howard didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. He gestured at the new guitar.

"What's that then? Taking up lessons?"

"No. It's for you, actually. Surprise."

"Uh, no, Vince. Th...this is too much. It's not even my birthday. It's too expensive-"

"Really, I bought it just for you! Yesterday. I finally found one I thought you'd like. Spent all the rest of my money and then some!"

Vince had bought him a new guitar? Had searched until he found one he knew Howard would like? Had spent all his money on it? _And then some? _Why was the room tilting?

"Howard?"

"Um. Thanks. Thank you...very much, Vince. This really means a lot."

Vince smiled at that and placed the guitar on Howard's lap. Howard took up the instrument and admired it, running his hands over the wood finish. Fingers finding their place on the strings by ingrained instinct, Howard played out a short melody, to test the strings. They all seemed to be tuned perfectly. Vince lightly clapped his hands once, folding his legs underneath him and giving Howard an expectant look.

"Well? Sing us a song!"

"Uh, I'm not really good at singing. Why don't I just pl-"

"_No no no!_ C'mon, lemme hear you sing! Here, how 'bout I start, yeah, and we just make it up as we go along."

Before Howard could protest, Vince sucked in a shallow breath and opened his mouth. Howard braced himself for the high screechy notes once belted out over coloring pages and hospital sheets. What came out of the child was a deep, almost solemn sound, and Howard was taken by how lovely the boy could sound when he wanted to.

"_Are we to be married on the morrow, my child, or will I always be alone_?"

Howard began playing a simple tune to match Vince, but he offered no additional vocals. Vince sat in silence, eyes closed and head tilted slightly back, as if waiting for Howard to join in with his voice as well as the acoustic. When he got nothing, he breathed a short sigh through his nose and continued on himself.

"_Are we to be together, forever and a day, or will life always be this way_?"

The word's came unbidden to Howard's mind as the notes became more elaborate. Silence stretched once more, and when it looked as if Vince wouldn't continue this time without Howard's contribution, Howard opened his mouth and just let the words flow from his mind and onto his lips.

"_Because I dreamed of a hedge where you laid your head; the grass was red. The seagull screamed_-"

"_What can it mean_?"

"-_Was it just a dream_?"

"_Am I too obscene for your eyes? Are we to be married on the morrow, my child, or will life always be this way_..."

Nothing more was sang, and Howard's fingers slowed to a stop over the strings. Vince seemed to have much more to sing, repeatedly filling his lungs deeply only to let the air back out again in slow breaths. His eyes buzzed with words Howard could only guess at as he looked over at the man, a not-quite-smile on his face.

Howard felt genuinely happy for the first time in far too long. He had a new, gorgeous acoustic, and he had _sang_ for the first time in over ten years, and hadn't died from embarrassment!

The ease and relaxation was blasted away when Vince scooted closer, practically up against him. His eyes moved up and down Howard's face, settling finally on his eyes. No trace of a smile was on his face this time. Instead, he looked quite serious for once.

"You have a really pretty voice. You should've sang for me sooner."

He spoke in a tone just above a whisper, sending gooseflesh along Howard's arms. Vince swallowed suddenly, and leaned forward, his face moving closer to Howard's; alarmingly close. Red lights flashed, and Howard fumbled with the guitar, leaning quickly away. Vince just laughed lightly and drew away smoothly, leaving Howard leant sideways over the arm of the sofa, guitar clutched in his arms like a shield.

The differences in this kid were scaring him. Howard wasn't dense; he knew what was going on here. Sensed it coming off the kid in waves. Vince was _flirting with him_.

Howard's mind redacted that statement.

There was _no way_ his brain would accept that bit of information. Even with Vince grinning like a cheshire cat and sending him sideways glances.

_'__**Fuck**__.'_

He had to put some distance between himself and this boy who was no longer the boy he knew and was no longer even a boy! He was an undiscovered species of undetermined gender. The pink-coated child of Howard's dreams was gone. This was his shell he'd left behind, and it was hitting on him.

Standing up, Howard walked to the far end of the room, to the dresser that held his few clothes, record player resting atop, and gently leaned the guitar against its side. He really was grateful for the gift. He was touched that Vince had not only recalled breaking his old one, but had gone out an bought him a brand new guitar to surprise him with. He supposed he owed the kid _something._

Walking over to Vince, who was now standing as well, Howard hesitated for a fraction of a second before loosely wrapping his arms around the child's shoulders. It was an awkward embrace, and Howard was just glad Vince made no motion. Just stood silently and let Howard have his two-second-hug and then take a few steps away.

The kid left soon after, but not before writing Leroy's phone number onto a stray piece of paper Howard had lying around. At Howard's questioning look, he had explained that he didn't want Howard phoning his own house, which really just opened more questions. He also had Howard write the number to the little phone he had set up on a table in the Lodge. Pocketing the folded paper, Vince left with a cheeky grin and a promise to ring him.

A full hour later and Howard still felt winded. Sitting on the couch, staring unseeing at the daytime show playing out on the little television.

(If you're thinking this is going to be a romance fic, I'd like to direct you back to the author's section of the first chapter. And if you're incredibly confused, don't worry, so's Howard.

Reviews are read with much grinning and squealing, thanks!)


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Howard had fully expected a call the very next afternoon. He knew the boy wouldn't phone while he was out. He seemed fully aware of Howard's working hours, if the stalking for days thing was true. However, Howard was met with no call at all that afternoon. Nor the day after that.

On the third day, as Howard pulled on his jacket, counting down the minutes on his wall clock to the exact moment Moose would be knocking on his door, a shrill cry rang out through the hut, startling Howard. It took him a moment to realise that it was only the phone ringing. The last person to call him on that phone had been his mother, late last year. He knew who it was before he even picked it up.

"Alright, Howard? Listen, I was in the neighborhood and was wonderin' if you wanna go get some drinks?"

"But...you're fifteen."

"Yeah well, I got a solution to that, don't I."

"Oh? And what makes you think I'm going to be buying _you_ drinks?"

"You will."

Howard could feel the cheeky grin through the phone, and wanted to shout that he didn't think it right to purchase alcoholic beverages in a pub for a fifteen-year-old kid, but he stopped himself short. He wasn't the boy's father. He let out a quick, heavy breath.

"_Fine_. Me and Joey are heading on to the Hellfire Pub; do you need directions?"

"Um, yeah, thanks."

Giving directions to the kid, who he could hear scribbling them down onto paper, Howard heard the awaited knock at his front door. He called out to Joey that he would be just a second, and quickly told Vince that he'd see him there. Howard wasn't certain why he had so easily invited the boy along with them, but it _was_ Vince after all. They had history, a friendship. As long as the kid didn't try any of that scary shit he'd pulled the last time, Howard could see no problem letting the boy tag along. Who knows, it could be just like old times. A part of Howard ached for that. That lost kinship that he'd felt for the child, so long ago. This might well be his opportunity to patch that hole in their bond.

* * *

"Howard!"

Howard turned to find his entire front covered by sparkly kid as Vince hugged him tight. Thankfully he only held the man for a brief moment before letting go and sliding onto the neighboring stool previously filled by Joey, who could be heard laughing loudly across the room. Howard did his best to ignore the curious glances and smirking whispers and focused on the kid, who had just ordered something bubbly and pink. Howard _really _didn't want a repeat of what happened in the other pub. He felt entirely out of his depth.

"So what've you been up to?" Vince asked after a long stretch of silence that wasn't as tense as Howard had thought it would become.

"Well, Cooper's been a bit ill lately. Er, that's a fox that I look after. Oh, and Fossil tried going into Bollo's cage for the third time. Stupid git thinks the ape'll get used to him. And, um, the fish have been doing fine..."

"No I mean, like, over these...what, seven years? _Damn_, that's a long time. Doesn't feel like it's been seven years since I last saw you; it really doesn't. Is it the same for you?"

"Um, well, I've been fine. The zoo could be doing much better but...yeah, it's fine. There's really not much else to tell, really. My whole life has been about the zoo, and all the animals."

Vince hummed happily at this, a look of interest sparking behind his eyes.

"Must be amazin', to get to take care of all those cool creatures, yeah? Like that lion I saw. I'm _insanely_ jealous of you, Howard. You got a dream job."

"Heh, not sure if I'd put it _that _way, Little Man."

Woah, back up, hold the dial. Howard hadn't meant to use that old nickname. In fact, if he remembered correctly, last time he'd called the kid _that_ it had resulted in tears. He'd just felt so chuffed at the admiring tone in Vince's voice that he'd let it slip. Howard grimaced down at his drink, expecting the worst. For all he knew, the boy would start screaming at him or something. When this didn't happen, Howard risked a look over at Vince, and was surprised to see a small smile on his face. He could practically _feel _the warmth radiating off of the boy. Oh no, he had that face again; that serious face right before he'd caused Howard to see flashing lights with his invasion into Howard's sacred bubble.

Howard hastily leaned away from the kid, though Vince had made no physical move. At a loss of words, Howard picked up his drink and finished the entire glass in one. He waved at the barman to bring him another. He felt he was going to need it.

Another long silence radiated between them, this one filled to the brim with Howard's nervous static and that damned warmth coming off of Vince in waves, ghosting over Howard's outer walls, leaking in through the cracks. Finally, Vince finished off his own drink, but instead of signalling to the barman, he looked up at Howard with a grin.

"Hey, what say you an' me head on over to this club I know of. I never been there before, but I hear it's wicked."

"Uh, no thanks, Vince. Think I'll just stay here a bit longer, then I really must be heading back. Gotta get some shut-eye."

"What for, tomorrow's Sunday."

Howard had no return argument. He just wanted to go home. This place was much too hot and noisy for him. He sighed down at his glass, and made the mental decision to be firm, to not give in to those pleading eyes that had made him let the boy into his house and resulted in him over the arm of his couch.

Standing up, Howard strode for the door, knowing full well the boy would follow. He didn't disappoint. Once they were in the outside air, cold from the recent rain, Howard turned to the boy with an authorative stance.

"I'm going home now. I'm tired, I haven't had much sleep this last week. Goodbye, Vince."

"Well, wait, could I come along? I-"

"No, Vince. You...go on to that club of yours. Have fun, or something. I'm just too exhausted to...handle you right now."

Vince went to reply, but seemed taken aback by those last words, and his brows drew together in confusion. Howard turned and headed for the Lodge, noting with satisfaction that he heard no accompanying boot clacks.

* * *

The morning sun didn't stab Howard's eyes for the first Sunday in a long time, and Howard was confused by this before recalling that he actually _hadn't_ gotten pissed the night before. Looking over at his clock, he noted with a groan that it was nearly seven in the morning. Much too early to be awake on a Sunday. So Howard lay back down on his couch, duvet on the floor in the warmth of the hut.

This sleepy peace was ruined by two loud raps on the door. Howard continued to lay there, knowing that he had locked the door when he came in. Another knock, and then the door moved slightly as whoever it was disturbing Howard tried to open it.

Now very miffed, Howard stood sharply and shuffled to the door, intent on telling off whoever it was forcing him to move at this ungodly hour.

He shouldn't have been as shocked as he was to see the sodding kid standing there. Well, standing's not the right word. More like sleeping upright, arm propped against the outside wall for support. At the sound of the door flinging open, he stood almost straight, bleary eyes taking in Howard, before he mutely slid between the man and the doorframe, letting himself inside.

Howard watched in appalled fascination as the boy literally crashed to his front on Howard's sofa, snoring almost instantly. Howard shook his head; the kid was obviously drunk off his tits, and most likely other substances as well. Howard could practically _see _the smoke lingering on the boy's clothes, and felt a prick of guilt, that he should've been there, with Vince, to keep him in check. Who knows what the boy had gotten into on his own.

Howard opted to question him later, and walked over to the sofa. He reached out and turned the boy's head so that it was on it's side, and not buried into the sofa. No sense in having the boy smother himself in the cushions. Howard then noticed something underneath the boy's fringe. Brushing it aside, he beheld the word 'VIRGIN' stamped out in red on the kid's forehead. Yes, Howard had _many_ questions about Vince's night out at this club. For now, he settled for laying his duvet over the sleeping teen, and going into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

* * *

Vince slept nearly the entire day, which wasn't surprising seeing as how he'd stayed up partying until the morning hours. Howard didn't think he had _ever_ possessed that kind of stamina. Howard was on the floor, leaning against the couch, when he felt the cushions shift and heard Vince groan in misery as he rolled over onto his back. Keeping his eyes closed, Vince sat up, putting a hand to the side of his head as if his neck alone couldn't hold up such a weight. He groaned once more as he squinted out into the bright room. Howard had opened the curtains as he prepared breakfast.

The older man sat patiently, turned slightly to watch the kid messily kick the blanket down to his feet. Once the boy seemed to be completely awake and sitting up on the couch, Howard threw the duvet to the floor and joined the boy on the furniture, now smelling mostly of cigarette smoke from Vince.

"So. Have...a bit of a night, then?"

Vince squinted over at Howard as if just noticing him, and then nodded with another small groan. Howard felt strangely smug, as if to say '_There, you see? That's what happens when teenage boys go out on their own and get pissed to the nines_.' He chose not to voice any of that out loud, and instead went for a different approach.

"You never did tell me what _you'd_ been up to for these seven years."

Vince made a swatting motion in the air.

"Aw, you don' wanna hear 'bout me boring school days. My life's been one big yawn. Up 'til over a year ago. Tha's when I met Leroy. He goes to a posh independent school; his family's well loaded. Anyway, me an' 'im became fast friends, and since he's older than me he takes me drivin' out places. Mainly to concerts an' stuff. And yeah...that's basically it. Not much more to tell."

"Did he not come here with you this time?"

"No. I took a bus."

"...You took a bus from Mitcham just to go out to a pub for one night?"

"Well it's not like it was a long trip, so...and actually, I was wonderin' if...since it's the hols an' all, if I could stay with you until school lets back in? Please?"

Howard was so geared up to say "NO" that it felt as though a locomotive had crashed against the back of his teeth when he choked the syllable down at that last word from Vince. He was giving the man such meek little glances through his fringe that Howard felt stranded. Calculating in his head, Howard sighed loudly as he visibly relented.

_'He's only got two more weeks until school starts. Might as well let him stay on 'til then.'_

"Where's your things, then? Did you even bring clothes?"

"Yeah, 's all back at a hotel room. I'll go an' get it later."

Vince seemed to physically hold himself back from landing square in Howard's lap, and just settled for breaking out that supernova smile of his. He ruffled his hands through his hair, seemingly just to give them something to do. Howard once again caught sight of the bizarre stamp on the kid's forehead. He gestured at it, keeping a light tone.

"What's, uh, what's with the red?"

Vince appeared confused for a second, before realisation landed on him. He clamped a hand over his forehead, and Howard had to hold back a smile at the slight pink that blossomed on Vince's cheeks. Vince's mouth grew into a thin line as he sighed heavily through his nose, shifting so as to sit with his back against the arm of the sofa, facing Howard fully. He dropped his hand, looking up at Howard with an embarrassed expression.

"Yeah, forgot about that. Just some stupid game from the club. I kinda got...a little too into the spirit of things, and just leapt into any game that was goin' on."

"...And? What sort of game involves stamping..._that_ onto people."

Vince didn't explain, just shook his head and closed his eyes once more, rubbing at his nose and fidgeting about. Howard couldn't help it, curiosity got the better of him.

"So...are you? You know..."

He gestured at Vince's head, and Vince once again went a bit pink, and his hand went up as if to cover the word again, before lowering it in defeat. He nodded sullenly, and glanced at Howard with a hooded gaze, as if expecting Howard to laugh at him, or even poke fun.

"I'm not gonna make fun of you, you know. It's not like it's a sin for a young boy to be...well, I'd be shocked if you _weren't_. Kids these days..."

Howard shook his head, staring off into space. Yes, kids these days indeed. Howard had little hope for the future generations. His gaze was drawn back to the child as Vince smiled ruefully, lowering his head to stare at his hands.

"The others did. At the club. They all had a right laugh when tha' one girl guessed right, that I was a virgin. Laughed and looked at me like I was some sort o' freak. I just laughed it off and went for more drinks. But..."

Howard sensed the black despondence leaking off the boy, and his mind desperately sought for something, _anything _to make the kid feel better.

"It's no big deal. Loads of people never..._you know_, before. Hell, uh- _I _haven't even...you know..."

Vince's eyes shot up and met Howard's, astonishment written in them.

"You mean _you're_ a virgin? But you're old!"

Now why did Howard have to go and reveal that! He was mentally beating himself to a pulp.

_'Way to reveal one of your deepest, most humiliating secrets, Moon-wait what does he mean old!?'_

Vince's smile was not mocking, however. Despite those last words, it was genuine. He tentatively reached out and laid the tips of his fingers on Howard's arm, as if to offer comfort. He quickly drew them away, respectful to Howard's wishes for space, which made Howard feel a bit of that old fondness for the boy that had been lost to him for far too long.

Indeed, Howard did feel a tether of that old bond, lost in the fog between them. Howard grasped the bond in both hands, and mentally vowed to follow it until he was back by Vince's side, just like old times. It felt good to confide in someone; someone Howard _knew_ he could trust, almost on an instinctive level.

Howard rose and went into the kitchen to make more tea. He returned soon after with two mugs, and handed off one to Vince, who gave his thanks.

"So...while I'm here, d'you think maybe I could help out? You know, with the animals an' all."

"Hmm. I don't think so, Vince. I could get sacked for that...But tell you what, you _can _tag along and give me company."

Vince perked up at this, grinning at Howard and shifting once more in his spot, this time out of sheer excitement, which Howard could not hold back a smile at. For the rest of the day, it truly felt as if Howard was back in his old bedroom with that little blond boy.

* * *

Howard entered the Zooniverse office building twenty minutes late, and that was only because he'd finally just grabbed the kid by his arm and hauled him out of the Lodge. He'd explained again and again that they weren't even leaving zoo grounds. It was just a little get-together for one of Joey's friend's birthday. Still, the boy had insisted on changing tops and jewelry several times, as well as flattening his hair and applying and re-applying his eyeliner. He looked like a flippin' camp goth, if there _were_ such a thing. Ah well, nothing to do for it now. He'd snatched the eyeliner from those bony little fingers, wrapped his hand around a wrist, and ignored the boy's indignant shouts as they marched out the hut front door.

Down the hall and to the right was the zoo lounge, which used to hold occasional parties when Nooka was around. It hadn't been used for anythingin the last four or so years. Howard figured that might've been why Joey chose it as a prime space for a birthday party. Sentiment.

Entering in through the open doorway, Howard blinked at the bright lights of the large room; Joey had obviously bought new ones. Scattered about said room were seven old men, a few bound to wheelchairs. Howard had only met this group of people once before. Apparently they were war buddies of Moose's late father. Joey had explained how they'd all practically raised him from boyhood, after his mother succumbed to cancer. Even after his father's passing six years ago, Joey still kept in touch with these men, often relaying a funny tale to Howard on quiet lunch breaks, or occasionally at the pub, when Moose tired of conversing with friends and sat down with Howard in their isolated corner of the bar.

"Moono!"

Howard's head turned toward the sound with a grin. Moose came walking over from the small kitchenette in the corner, clapping the other man on the shoulder before turning to look down at the kid with a confused expression. Howard quickly interceded, releasing his hold on the boy and gesturing between the two.

"Joey, this is Vince. Vince this is my good friend Joey Moose."

Joey smiled and offered his hand to the kid, who took it with a grin of his own. Howard really hoped the two got along well, and let his mind wander a bit with images of the three of them, thick as thieves. He came back to himself as Joey was mid-sentence in conversation with Vince.

"-look like one of those new little film stars. That's what they wear these days."

Vince laughed, enjoying the undivided attention.

"Well y'know they called me Vince Noir, rock n' roll star, back home."

"You in a band or something, Vince?"

"Used to be. Yeah, the guitarist threw a hissy and walked out on us. S'alright, though, they were all shit anyway."

Howard tensed a bit. Joey had an odd peeve with cursing for some reason. The man's smile didn't waver, however, and Howard allowed himself to breath out slowly. Howard couldn't count how many times he'd been smacked upside the head for spitting out a swearword in the Aussie's presence.

"So how old are you, Vince? Thirteen, fourteen?-"

"I'm twenty-five, actually. Same as Howard."

Howard's mind was flung back to the present, and he laid a hand on the kid's shoulder, looking at Moose with a smile that relayed the kid was obviously joking.

"No you're not, Vince-"

"We're the same age."

Now the kid was looking up at him, and Howard honestly couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. But he had to be. Vince knew his own age; acknowledged it constantly. This was another one of his little stunts. Fortunately Moose seemed to understand and moved on. The conversation continued, hopping from subject to subject, until a gravelly voice broke out from across the room.

"Who invited the lady?"

It actually took Howard a moment to realise the old man was referring to Vince, and by the time he did all eyes in the room were landing on the three of them. Moose let out a snicker, not meaning anything cruel by it as he laughed, but Howard saw the kid bristle, air of ease gone. It only got worse as another voice piped up as the men all made to move closer to the stranger in the room.

"Has Harold brought along a little girlfriend?"

Okay, now they were all just teasing. Howard knew these guys weren't _that_ daft. But their humor, well-intentioned as it may have been, was causing Vince to go mute and move back to stand once more beside Howard, brows drawn. The kid obviously didn't see the joke. Feeling sympathetic, Howard stepped forward, hands raised.

"Alright now lads, let's simmer down. Let's just get back to the party at hand. Uh, who's birthday is it, again?"

Moose spoke up this time, pointing at the man who'd initially spotted Vince.

"It's Bonker's day today. He's turned ninety-seven, if you can believe it."

"Oh I can believe it."

Howard cringed. That child and his mouth, always blunt to the point of rudeness. And going by his expression, Howard knew the kid was also more than a tad angry. But seriously, what did he expect going out dressed like a gothic thirteen-year-old girl? Howard mentally shook his head in bewilderment. Moose also seemed to be on the confused side, although Howard was seeing the first signs of aggression about him. Moose was incredibly protective over what he perceived as his family, and would have no word against them, not even from Howard, and _certainly_ not from a strange teenager. The man smiled once more, however, and walked back toward the kitchenette, calling Howard to follow.

The man sighed in relief and moved along with Moose, hearing the kid as he clacked closely behind Howard. The older men in the room had all gathered together at a long table in the centre of the room, and seemed to be relaying stories of some bloke by the name of Squeaky.

Once Joey realised Vince had followed them, he seemed a bit at a loss, and Howard realised the man had wanted them to have a word in private. Casting about for something to keep the teen busy, Howard spotted the kettle, which Moose had been busy preparing earlier. The man nodded toward it, looking at Vince.

"Alright Vince, why don't you set about making these men some tea while Joey and I have a word."

The boy looked incredulously up at the taller man, argument in his eyes before it ever left his lips.

"Why do I have to make the tea? I don't even know these old geezers!"

Crisis spotted, Howard pointedly didn't look at Joey behind him, and instead leaned down to Vince's level, close enough that he could speak lowly.

"Just make some tea, Vince. For me, please."

Vince scowled but dutifully walked over to the counter, and Howard shepherded Moose to the opposite side of the room, where they were beyond hearing range from the kid but Howard still had a clear view of him. Moose did not look happy, and Howard gave him a tight smile.

"Who the kid, Howard?"

"Well, uh, he's a boy that used to live in my neighborhood. I...kind of looked after him when he was little. Used to follow me everywhere."

"Hmm, you've never mentioned him before. How come I've never seen him about the zoo? Honestly never imagined you to be the babysitting type."

"Yeah well, we haven't actually spoken since I took this job. Um, but that's not because of anything bad! We just...lost track of each other."

"...So let me get this straight. You tell me you haven't seen that kid since he were...what, six? And now he shows up and your response is to let him shack up with ya until he goes back to school?"

"Well it sounds a bit weird when you put it like that-"

"Listen to me, Howard." Moose's tone lowered and he stared the other man directly in the face. Howard knew this to be Moose's way of conveying that he was being _very_ serious. "You've never doubted my feelings before. Well I got a feeling; a vibe off this kid that just doesn't sit right with me. I mean, he seems nice enough, but I saw the second you came in the room with him-"

"Oh please, Joey. You're just miffed he insulted the guys. Hey, I understand. I'll speak with him about it later, alright?"

Howard had to admit Joey was right in one respect. The Aussie was quite perceptive when it came to people. He was never able to fully describe it, but Howard had learned over the years to never doubt the man's instincts. But Joey was wrong this time. He was just ruffled because a stranger had insulted his family. Howard smiled kindly at his friend, who sighed in exasperation and moved back toward the kitchenette and the teen. Howard followed, and saw to his relief that the boy had not only made tea, but had dug out enough cups for all of them, though he scowled at any who looked over at him.

Joey took over from there, silently filling each cup and passing them out to the men at the table, who smiled and thanked Moose. Vince crossed his arms as Howard sat him down on one end of the table, sitting between the kid and one of the men; Hilary, if Howard remembered correctly.

Bonker was wheeled up to the head of the table, and Joey led the men in a mismatched chorus of 'Happy Birthday'. Vince seemed to finally loosen up after a while, and was soon sitting enraptured as The Colonel told one of his many Squeaky tales. Howard only half-listened, lost in thought.

"...And he ripped off his clothes and ran screeching towards the enemy! By god, I'd never seen anything like it. Spectacular, it was!"

Vince grinned, eyes bright, "And then what happened?"

"Oh he was torn to shreds by the enemy."

Howard, catching the end of the tale, made a face of confusion. Why the hell did no on stop the crazy blighter? The story was almost too insane to be believed. Vince seemed to, though, and the boy burst into laughter at hearing the fate of Squeaky and his psychotic display of combat.

The rest of the party went as such, and to Howard's undying gratitude, Moose said nothing more of his 'vibes' and though the men continued to refer to Vince with feminine pronouns, the boy didn't fling any insults at them. And when the hour grew late Howard excused himself and Vince, knowing that despite their age these men could and _would_ stay up into the morning hours.

Howard let the kid have the sofa, and buried himself into the sleeping bag, out before he could even make sure all the lights were off.

(review any thoughts/love/hatred! Even questions concerning details, characters or whatnot. I'll always reply, but I can't guarantee I will answer ;)

Hope you're enjoying the ride so far!)


	15. Chapter 15

BLORP: I've started actually dreaming of this story. I think that's a good sign...?

Chapter 15

Howard felt bereft.

The last of the summer holiday had slipped through his fingers much too quickly. The entire two weeks had been pure bliss in the poor man's otherwise bleak life. Howard had been wrong to assume the little child of the past was gone, and that the Vince now was merely his shell. No, Vince was no shell. He was a light; a cool breeze to Howard's monotonous schedule. His usual routine of zoo chores and minding the animals was brightened considerably by the constant flow of conversation. He didn't even have to contribute. Vince just kept rabbiting on about nothing and everything, making the hours fly by so fast that Howard hardly felt his usual exhaustion when it was time to return to the Lodge.

_And_ the kid even kept his hands to himself, miraculously. He never once moved from his spot on the sleeping bag or sofa, and Howard could rest peacefully. Hell, he might even admit to sleeping _better_, what with having someone else there to keep him from getting creeped out by midnight animal sounds and the like. And when he'd realised it was time to leave for home, Vince had begun rambling about wanting to stay on, claiming that he didn't need to return to school just yet.

"The first few weeks are just rubbish, anyway!" He'd said, looking so distressed that Howard had very nearly given in.

Now the man damn near mourned the loss of the boy's presence, and would lay in the hut at night, feeling very much like he was eighteen again, when he'd entertained mad notions of bringing the child with him. No, no; that was mad. He couldn't take care of a kid! It was the same as before, the boy was better off in a home that could provide for him. But soon these reasonings gave way to sleep-deprived musings of why_ couldn't _he? Why couldn't he care for a child? He had a home, he had food, he had a decent job to live off of. Circumstances had changed vastly. The kid was no longer a dependent little boy, he was a teenager, who'd be sixteen in a few more months.

And besides, the kid _did_ seem to want to stay at the Zooniverse forever. No harm could come from Howard voicing his invitation. If the kid refused, then...well, Howard would just have to get used to seeing him only on the holidays. He could do that too.

* * *

The boy only phoned twice over the countless days, from his friend's phone late at night, waking Howard both times. Howard himself had spent many an evening hovering over his own phone. But he'd yet to call the number that lay beside it. For one thing, it wasn't even Vince's phone number, it was his friend's, and the man really didn't want the awkward moment of calling only to be told Vince wasn't there, and didn't even _live _at that residence. And secondly...well, the second reason was all muddled and lost en route somewhere between Howard's brain and his hand, which kept making motions for the phone, but never quite reached it.

One sleepless night of many, in which Howard felt he was honestly going insane, the phone rang. Howard bashed the holy hell out of his shin on one of the table's legs as he made a go for the phone. This caused him to stoop over and wheeze for a few moments before gathering himself enough to answer the call without squeaking or gasping. It was Vince; of course it was Vince, and Howard felt warmth travel up his arms at the kid's voice. Was it really possible to miss someone _that_ much? When had this attachment crept back up on him? Howard pushed these questions to the side for the moment; Vince was saying something about coming over for the weekend, and Howard told himself it was now or never.

"Vince, uh, would y- I mean, I have a question."

"...Alright, what is it?"

"Well, seeing as how you love it here so much...and all you did before was whinge about leaving, and since you tell me constantly how boring school is-"

"Howard, are you askin' me if I wanna shack up with you?"

"Well, 'shacking up' isn't the term I'd use, but yes."

"Really? You _really _want me to come an' live with you? Like, could I work there an' all as well?"

"Look, if you don't want to that's fi-"

"Bloody hell, Howard, of _course_ I wanna come work at the zoo! That's what I was goin' on about to Leroy just last week!"

Howard smiled into the phone, but was interrupted by Vince's voice once more.

"But what about my GCSEs? I-"

"GCSEs aren't important, Vince, everybody knows that."

Okay now he was lying. Howard felt terribly greedy and wrong for pulling Vince from his education just so he wouldn't have to miss the child. This wasn't right; Howard could just see the boy every few months and deal with it. He breathed in to say these things aloud, but sudden sounds in the background caused Vince to hastily tell Howard goodbye and that he'd be packing his things immediately, and then he hung up. Howard stood there listening to the dial tone for a few solid minutes. Well, here it was. Couldn't very well take it back now; not without feeling even more like a bad person. The boy was actually, _literally _going to be staying at the Zooniverse with him, and not just that, but he also needed to be a member of staff in order to live there.

Getting his wits together, Howard began planning his visit to the Chief Manager's office in the morning. He had to give Fossil the news of their soon-to-be added member. Luckily, Howard was a senior keeper, which gave him the right to hire apprentices. And if Vince did well enough, in a few years time he could go from apprentice to proper keeper. Howard felt much like a parent sending their kid off to their first job as he lay down across the sofa cushions, and knew that he'd be feeling that way for a long time to come.

Feeling overwhelmed, Howard stared up silently at the ceiling overhead. He took a few moments to marvel at what he had just done, and the straight road before him split down its stitched middle, becoming crossroads once more; only this time both appeared shadowed and unsure.

_'Best take a few deep breaths now, Moon, cause you're in the ocean.'_

* * *

Howard stood waiting outside the zoo gates. He wished he'd had the foresight to ask Vince if he would be arriving by bus or if Leroy would be dropping him off.

Suddenly, a small green car pulled up in front of him. Leroy, then. The teen was almost as tall as Howard, towering high over his smaller friend as the two got out and moved to the boot of the car, getting out several suitcases and bags.

Howard stood there in a trance, not really believing that this was reality. He quickly snapped himself out of it, though, and went to help the two with Vince's luggage. Heading toward the gates, Howard flashed his pass at Graham, who'd put up a hand to stop them, even though Howard had been standing near him for almost two hours. The three of them moved through the zoo and made their way into the Lodge.

Everything felt surreal, like a dream, and looking over at Vince, Howard guessed that he was feeling much the same. Vince looked about him as if it were his first time in the hut. He seemed unsure of where to put his things, and followed Howard to a corner of the room, where they sat his bags for the time being. They stood around awkwardly until Leroy gave his goodbyes and instructed Vince to call him soon. Vince seemed even more out of his depth at the loss of his friend, and Howard hurriedly suggested that he start unpacking, lest the boy begin having second thoughts. The bizarre mental image of a kid frantically stabbing holes into a jar lid containing a butterfly fluttered on the edge of his mind.

The rest of the night consisted of Vince redecorating the hut with his belongings. Howard wasn't too happy about this, but for the sake of Vince's comfort, he let the kid have at it. That is, until he began tacking paper plates onto the walls. Paper plates with paintings done on the back of them. One of which sent a chill down Howard's spine.

It was the old Hitcher painting, the one Howard had left behind in his bedroom. He'd wanted to take it with him, for sentimental reasons, but to be honest it creeped him out, even today. He had to wonder how Vince had gotten hold of it again.

Biting his tongue, Howard moved to sit down on the couch, and watched the boy in silence. Vince no longer appeared anxious or awkward, to Howard's relief. Now he practically buzzed with excitement as he piled various items next to Howard's gramophone. Before Howard knew it, his sepia haven was transformed into a neon nightmare. Hairbrushes, eyeliner and nailpaint littered every possible surface. Luckily Vince didn't seem to have that many clothes of his own, and filled only the remaining two drawers in Howard's dresser. Still, the man made a mental note to buy the kid his own.

* * *

The morning sun made itself known just as Howard and Vince were on their fifth cups of tea. They had ended up staying awake the entire night, talking about utter nonsense and Howard explaining a bit about the zoo. Howard knew he'd be regretting this come midday, but for now he and Vince shared a content silence, once again falling into wavelength together, just like so long ago. Just like they had over the summer. Howard felt happier than he had in four years. Happier, maybe, even before that.

"It's nearly six. I should get you to the office so you can meet Fossil."

Vince nodded, and the two reluctantly left the serenity of the Lodge and stepped into the outside world, Howard leading the way to the Chief Manager's office.

* * *

Howard needn't have worried about Fossil hating Vince. Quite the opposite, really. Fossil seemed to take to Vince practically on sight, and it was obviously for rather skeevy reasons. Vince picked up on these vibes as well, and by the time introductions and instructions were out of the way, he was practically behind Howard, hand on his arm. Howard felt a surge of fresh hatred rage through him right at Bob Fossil. The two had a massive stare down, and Howard felt quite like a towering mother bear, eyeing a wolf as it stalked in the shadows.

The two might have gone to blows if it weren't for Vince clearing his throat and tugging on Howard's sleeve. Giving Fossil a victorious look and dismissive nod, Howard let himself be pulled out the building. Vince heaved a heavy breath once they were outdoors.

"Shit, he was _well _creepy. Do I have to go an' see him often?"

"Unfortunately. But don't worry, any time he calls you over, just come and get me and we'll go together, if you feel that uncomfortable around him. He's a bit insane, to be honest. Apparently he was a soldier in the Vietnam war."

"Must've royally fucked 'im up."

"Language."

Vince grinned up at Howard, fear now forgotten, and began to carry on giddily about his first position in the zoo, assigned to him by Fossil. He was to man the frogs and newts, a relatively simple job taken up by every starting member. Howard fondly recalled the days when _he _looked after the little critters.

When Howard showed Vince each creature under his care, the boy paid rapt attention to every instruction, and Howard practically _bathed _in the air of superiority. Some things just never change.

When Howard made to leave Vince and head to the aviary, he paused at the physical change that came over Vince. He seemed once again utterly lost and at odds when he remembered he'd be handling this task alone. Before Howard could offer any words of comfort, however, Vince visibly shoved this countenance aside for a more cheeky one, and grinned up at the older man.

"Serez-vous...à proximité?"

Howard smiled and ruffled the boy's dark hair, causing an annoyed look to break out over Vince's face. He swatted at Howard's hand, but smiled along with him as the man began walking backward toward his own station.

"Bien entendu, Petit Homme."

With that, he swiveled mid-step and marched on to the aviary, feeling the connection between himself and Vince stretch and strain as the distance between them grew. But never snapping; no, holding taught, and pulsing with Vince's nervousness and trust and Howard's assurances. Howard finally had something other than the animals to keep him in this zoo. And maybe now it wouldn't be so bleak.

(I realise Howard's quite swift to take in Vince. To pull him from his home and education. Note he didn't even _think _about the guardians this time. I battled with writing this forever! But in the end, this is so like Howard to just yank the kid back into his life. Howard doesn't realise it, but he's actually driven by emotion more so than the kid. He likes to paint himself as calculating and aloof, but he's a fickle, emotional person with a soft underbelly and a fuzzy brain that just can't make good decisions! :3

God this French is confusing me X_X I grew up speaking quite a bit of French, but it's all leaked out of my brain as I aged :( and I hope I'm remembering things correctly...)


	16. Chapter 16

chapter 16

Howard Moon was pulled from his drifting thoughts by the sound of the zoo speakers screeching on, and Bob Fossil's voice filling the air seconds later.

"Staff announcement; all keepers to my office, pronto!"

Frowning, Howard reluctantly left his bench where he'd been taking a break and made his way toward the head offices. There he found many of the keepers already gathered in front of the zoo office building and muttering amongst themselves. Before them stood Fossil, and what made Howard's frown worsen was seeing Vince standing silently next to him, looking very unsure. Howard wanted to drag the boy away from that creep Fossil, but held himself in check and merely stood near the front of the crowd, so that Vince could spot him if he took his eyes off the ground. All thoughts were abruptly blasted out of Howard's mind by Fossil's grating voice, yelling loudly so as to halt the various conversations going on around them.

"Alright guys, we got a situation on our hands. While I was making the rounds today, checking on how you were all doing, I came over to see how our newest member was faring."

He looked pointedly down at Vince, whose shoulders visibly tensed and drew back. Howard wanted to call bullshit. Fossil never checked up on any of them, and he certainly never _saw how new members were faring_.

"Our lovely new keeper Vince Noir here has been charged with the care of the zoo's beloved frogs and small lizards. As you know, the Zooniverse is quite well-known for our newt breeding program. We are so very close to getting our two _incredibly rare _Argonian newts to breed. Or at least, we _were_, until hot-pants over here fucked things up."

Now Howard was taking a step forward. He knew what this was; had been subjected to it numerous times over the years. This was blatant public humiliation, something Fossil dished out in droves. And now he was doing it to Vince. Well, Howard was saying a big "no sir" to that!

"Come off it, Fossil. If you have an announcement, just make it already!"

"Did I say you could speak, Moon? Anyway, the point _is_ we no longer have a chance of breeding our rare newts, cause limp-wrists here started trembling as he was holding one! Now what are we supposed to do with two females, huh?"

This last question was directed more at Vince than the crowd. The teenager finally looked up, his eyes ghosting over Howard before landing on Fossil.

"Could they be a lesbian couple?"

Fossil's eyes hardened, becoming almost venomous, and Vince quickly dropped both his gaze and the cheeky half-smile, clasping his hands meekly behind his back. Fossil turned again to the other keepers, who didn't really seem to give two shits about the sex of any of their newts; except for Joey Moose, who glared over at Vince from the back of the crowd. Fossil seemed as if he were going to launch into another string of insults and yammerings, but his eyes widened suddenly, and he began to speak rapidly.

"And a- another announcement! The llama has just escaped. I see him clomping around over there. Uh, go get 'em. Good luck!"

And with that, the blue-shirted man scrambled through the front office door, locking it behind him. The keepers were all in a frenzy now, many of them running for cover. The Zooniverse's llama was known to be rather vicious, biting and kicking and even spitting at anyone who came near him.

Amid the scattering, Howard lost track of Vince for a few moments, and when he spotted the kid again, he saw to his horror that Vince was walking calmly to where the llama had last been seen. In a panic, Howard snatched Vince by the wrist, yanking the boy practically against him. Howard felt bad, seeing Vince's slight wince, but he definitely didn't want the kid getting hooved into the dirt by a mad animal twice his size.

"Listen to me, Vince. I want you to follow me and do exactly what I say, you got it? This llama isn't out to make friends, alright? I've seen him crack a guy's ribs once."

"Oh, please. You forget, Howard, I can talk to animals. It'll be fine, watch me."

Vince smiled and made to move forward, but Howard once again yanked him back, Vince's face burying itself roughly in Howard's shirt before the boy stood straight once more with a huff and a glare up at the taller man. When Howard was certain that Vince would listen to him, Howard let go of the boy and continued silently forward. Now they were entirely on their own, the other staff having scurried away like the rats they were. They _all _remembered the one poor bloke who'd last crossed the llama's path.

Howard stepped carefully around one of the exhibits, catching sight of the escaped animal as it rounded another corner, heading in the direction of the gift shop. Howard picked up his pace, while hearing Fossil's voice once again ring out over the zoo on the intercom, shouting frantically for all zoo visitors to vacate. Luckily today seemed just as slow as ever,and Howard had yet to spot any pedestrians.

Coming to the gift shop, Howard saw that he had spoken too soon. A small girl and her mother were backed into the wall of the shop, watching with terrified eyes as the llama advanced on them. Before Howard could step forward, he saw Moose come around the side of the building, arms stretched out and a determined look on his face. He spotted Howard and nodded silently to him. Howard nodded back and proceeded to step toward the animal as well, arms out so as to try and herd the beast away from the people.

The llama backed away from the two men, going toward the Lodge instead. This was going good; if they could keep this up, they just might be able to shepherd the animal back into its pen. Howard suddenly remembered Vince, and cast a quick look over his shoulder. The daft boy was moving slowly over toward Howard, watching the llama nervously. Howard lowered one of his hands to wave frantically at the kid to back away.

This llama was much smarter than anyone had anticipated. Seeing one of the humans take its attention off of him, the creature made to turn and sprint off in a random direction.

Howard whipped his head back around in time to see the great white beast hurdle itself back toward the gift shop. Joey stepped valiantly in its way, shielding the woman and child. This brave act earned him not only Howard's undying respect, but a few bruises to last about his face and torso as the animal barreled into him.

The animal, now spooked and angry, pivoted in the direction of the only opening between the keepers and the building wall. Of course, this pathway held a certain fifteen-year-old, who froze up in realisation that the mad llama was about to run him over like a steam train.

Howard's not sure how he did it, but somehow he managed to step up beside the llama before it could fully charge forward, and wrap his arms around the creature's neck. It was the most self-destructive thing he'd ever done, and Howard squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the end.

The end never came. In fact, upon opening his eyes hesitantly, Howard saw to his amazement that the llama was simply standing there, no longer frightened or furious, but calm. Who'da thunk it. All it took to sate the great beast was to put it in more or less a headlock. Howard looked about him in bewilderment. The mother and child were kneeling beside Moose in shock and relief. Vince himself was still in his same spot, silent. Only instead of gazing at the llama like the others, he stared directly at Howard, his mouth slightly open and a look on his face as if Howard had transformed into some mighty being and not just a sweaty, trembling guy with his arms clasping a llama's neck.

There was no way in hell Howard was letting this batshit crazy llama go, and Joey seemed down for the count. Howard pondered on how he was going to get the animal back into its enclosure without any of the other keepers. Seems the boy would have to do, though he still looked beyond mystified and quite scared.

Howard didn't trust his voice at the moment, and so sent one sharp nod at Vince. Luckily the kid seemed to get the gist and nodded quickly back. Vince began backing slowly in the direction he and Howard had come from. Howard gingerly followed, arms aching from their tense grip on the llama. The animal seemed content to follow, putting up no resistance. They made it back to the front of the offices where Howard spotted Fossil peaking through the blinds, as well as a few of the AWOL keepers looking behind hedges and around corners.

Vince stood with his arms rigid at his sides, looking about him, and Howard could've laughed when he realised that the boy didn't know where the llama's pen was. When the kid looked back at him with a lost expression, Howard smiled and leaned his head to the left. Vince sent a half-smile back and made in the direction Howard had indicated. It was pretty much straight on after that. Only a few minutes later they arrived at a wooden fence, the gate of which sat open slightly. Some keeper, in their haste to clean the cage and run for it, must not have properly latched the door.

Vince stood out of the way once he'd opened the gate wider, giving Howard plenty of space to lead the docile animal into the enclosure. Here was the part he was dreading. Howard slowly unwound his arms, wincing at how sore they felt. The llama stood still, not even turning to look at him. Howard wasn't trusting the peace to last long, and sprinted quickly out the gate, which Vince hastily closed with a _bang!_ and latched it securely.

The snap of the gate was akin to that of a flag snapping as the winner crossed the finish line. Howard was that winner today. Raising his arms in the air he let out a mighty shout, feeling very much like a champion, victorious in the boxing ring. For a few minutes he lost himself in his own triumph, hopping up and down like a giddy child, arms pumping and a wide grin spread across his face.

Coming back to planet earth, Howard turned around sheepishly to face the pen. The llama looked on, unimpressed, chewing feed from its trough. Vince held a grin that rivaled Howard's, and was still staring at the man as if he had a light shining off him. The boy leaped forward and wrapped his own arms around Howard's neck, hugging the life out of him. Howard supposed this was how the llama had felt.

The sound of clapping caused Vince to release his grip and step away from Howard, who took in the sight of all of the keepers (minus Fossil and Moose) standing around and applauding him. Vince laughed and joined in, and Howard couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face. He truly_ did _feel as if he were shining, if only for a few minutes until he made his way back to Joey, who was being taken to A&E by a few fellow keepers. Howard then made for the Lodge. The zoo had been closed down early, and he was intent on making himself some tea in the hope that it would slow his heartrate.

* * *

Twenty minutes later found Howard sitting on one side of the couch, cup barely touched, watching television. Vince sat beside him, and every now and again would shoot revering looks at him.

Howard wasn't even paying much mind to the program, but turning it on had been the only thing he could think of to shut the child up. Ever since entering the hut and finding that Vince had followed him, Howard hadn't been able to quell the kid's sudden hero worship for him. The boy went on and on about how he was sure he'd have ended up like Moose if it weren't for Howard.

Being treated like a deity was great and all, but after fifteen minutes of it Howard just wanted silence. He was glad Vince was showing him the respect he deserved as a senior keeper, but something else radiated in their bond beside simple gratitude. It was that familiar warmth that sparked as it collided with Howard's skin, like invisible blots of static lightning. It made Howard itch.

Not able to sit still any longer, Howard turned off the tv and strode to his acoustic. He returned to his seat with it and began to absently strum away. He immediately felt calmer; that is, until Vince began speaking again.

"Good god, Howard, I was _sure_ I was a goner. Saw me own life flash an' everythin'! How did you know to do that?"

Howard sighed, not wanting to admit that he'd honestly just blacked out for a second.

"Just one of the few ways to calm a llama down, Vince."

Vince laughed and tucked his legs underneath him, watching Howard play for a few silent seconds before speaking again in a low tone that was almost song-like.

"Calm a llama down...heh."

Vince went silent after that, eyes drifting unseeing to the television. Occasionally the grin on the boy's face would morph into brief laughter at whatever hilarious thought was passing through the child's enigmatic brain. Howard could only shake his head in wonder, and went on playing lightly, paying little mind to the notes and looking over at Vince when the teen leant against the arm of the couch and grinned at Howard.

"Why aren't you, like, a famous guitarist or somethin'?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Howard honestly had no response to it, other than a few lame ones that he dared not voice aloud, such as _'I'm really not that good.' _or _'I'm afraid people won't think I'm that good.'_ He decided to just stay quiet, and this action paid off when Vince went on speaking in a tone as if he could already see Howard's name up in lights.

"You could be famous! Or at least, well known enough to get gigs. Just picture it! You could earn money playin' and continue your job here; you'd be makin' a killin'!"

Howard just shook his head with a small smile at Vince's naivety, focusing his eyes and mind on his guitar. Vince silently got up from his seat and moved over to the coat-hanger where the twos' Keeper jackets were stored on off hours. Taking his own, Vince then rummaged around in an old green fisher's tackle box he'd brought along with him during his move into the hut. It had colorful stickers all over it, and from what Howard could see it held all of Vince's makeup.

The boy pulled out a small clear box holding sewing needles and strings of various colors. He also grabbed a patch and a few shiny items before resuming his place beside the man still gliding over his guitar strings. Vince held a glint in his eyes as he laid his jacket out over his lap, placing the items, a Kiss patch and small spikes, on the arm of the sofa. He snapped open the clear box and withdrew a small, barely visible needle and a spindle holding black string.

"Wanna hear the tale of how I got this Kiss badge?" Vince asked with a grin that promised a very strange tale indeed. Most likely a made-up fantasy. Howard was honestly not in the mood for another of the boy's famous fables.

"Not really..."

Vince took this reply in stride and silently went about his work, managing to somehow get the string through the needle. This amazed Howard, though the man kept his head down over his acoustic, strings forgotten. He eyed Vince silently from the side of his vision, curious at what the boy was up to.

To his horror, Howard saw Vince place the patch against the sleeve of his Keeper jacket and begin pressing the needle through it and the green cloth beneath.

"Stop! Wai-what are you doing!?"

Vince looked up at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Um, customisin' it? It's boring! I'm addin' in a few unique touches. Want me to do the same to yours?"

"No I do not! Anyway, it's not allowed."

Vince made a gesture with his shoulders that conveyed how little he cared. Howard had a sneaking suspicion this 'customising' was more for snubbing Fossil and his rules than anything else. Howard's theory was proven correct when Vince's brows drew together and he began to speak as he sewed the patch on.

"'Tweren't my fault, you know. That whole newt business. I mean, I had just finished cleanin' out their cage when that weirdo came 'round the corner. I told 'im I was fine, but he just kept hoverin' over me! Well creeped me out! I couldn't help it, my hands just started shakin'."

The mental image of Fossil looming above the bony frame of the kid, casting a long shadow over him came to Howard, causing him to shift about in his seat, slightly closer to the boy. He cast a glance at the door, as if Fossil himself might burst through it.

Vince once again rose and went over to his green box, withdrawing an old Pritt stick from inside its unending depths. He flopped back down onto the couch and began carefully gluing the little stud-spikes onto the shoulders of the jacket.

The two sat in companionable silence after that; Vince focused intently on his work, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek, and Howard content to simply watch him go about his work. Vince went back and forth between the couch and his box, adding small chains to the jacket as well as safety pins he scooped off of Howard's dresser. He ended his craft project with glittering his surname across the right side of the front, above the pocket.

Howard had to admit, it suited Vince perfectly, and he _dared _Fossil to have anything to say about it.

(Fellow Skyrim nerds will get what I did up there.

Reviews make me blush, so keep doing that ;) comments/hate/questions are all welcome!)


	17. Chapter 17

NOTETHENOTES: Uploaded now cause I doubt I'll have internet next week :/

Chapter 17

The cold winter air greeted Howard as he rose to consciousness. He pulled the duvet tighter around him and gave himself a minute's peace and relaxation before finally forcing himself up and out of bed. He'd finally gotten used to ducking his head as he rose, after striking it harshly on the bed above him every morning for the past week.

He and Vince had traded off sleeping on the couch for the first weeks of Vince's moving in. When their monthly cheques _finally_ arrived, Howard had planned on pulling their money together and buying a bunk bed. That way he was sure to have plenty left over to spend on groceries and the like.

Those plans were tied up in a sack and tossed out to sea when Vince disappeared soon after receiving his cheque, only to be discovered hours later in the hut, surrounded by candy. Howard had stared down at the teenager sitting cross-legged on the floor, strawberry bootlace hanging from his mouth in mid-chew.

Howard closed the door as well as his eyes, sighing.

"Did you just spend your entire wage on _confections_?"

Vince's brow dropped slightly, and he reached behind him and held up a small glass container of nailpaint for Howard to see.

"No! I also got this. It's the perfect shade!"

Howard glared at the tiny bottle of pale purple, and then past it to the blue eyes belonging to the bane of his existence. Vince lowered the nailpaint, looking suddenly ashamed. He glanced about him at the piles of wrappers and bags of sweets, and then up at Howard, utterly morose expression in place.

"I might've gone overboard... I didn't mean to! It's just...I never got to have, y'know, sweets when I was younger. Only a little every now an' then, like when a kid in class offered it, which was practically never! I only meant to buy a bit, honest! I just got caught up in wantin' to try everythin', and..."

Vince trailed off with a helpless shrug, eyes wide at Howard, who's anger had melted long-since Vince gave him those puppy eyes. Still, this put him in a rough patch, and he was determined to at least make the kid _think_ he was in hot water.

The man huffed and walked into the kitchen, putting the kettle on and leaning against the counter, observing the boy as he gathered all the opened wrappers and foils together in his arms. Hell, the kid was already over halfway through his pile, and there was a _lot_ of candy around him. Vince silently stuffed the rubbish into the kitchen bin, and then gathered the remaining candy and stacked it all nicely on one of the small tables.

_'Well, the kid must really be feeling guilty, if he's cleaning up this well after himself.'_

Suddenly Vince's posture went funny, and he froze where he stood, halfway to the sofa. Before Howard could go to him, the kid was racing to the toilet with a hand clamped over his mouth. Howard could only stand in the doorway as Vince was sick, sympathetic but at the same time knowing that it served the little brat right for downing _that _much sugar in one go. Yes sir, he definitely wouldn't be blowing his cheques like that again, Howard was sure of it.

* * *

Sunday morning, the very next day, Howard left Vince fast asleep on the couch and went out to purchase a bunk bed. He later reflected that he could've planned better. Just how exactly does one get a bunk bed to their house without some kind of vehicle?

Luckily for Howard the bed came in pieces, and the owner of the small shop took pity on him once he'd realised his predicament. Howard guessed the guy thought he was a single father with no car, trying to get his kids a bed. Howard didn't bother to correct him. For just £10 extra the man agreed to drive Howard and his purchases to his home. He_ did _give Howard quite a strange look when they pulled up outside the zoo gates, but at least he lent a hand with removing the bed pieces in their wooden boxes from the car before driving off with a few mutters under his breath.

There were three large boxes, quite heavy even for Howard, who was proud to say he had acquired a healthy amount of strength from nearly eight years as a zookeeper. He'd have to make three trips; three very arduous trips. Howard sighed as he flashed his pass at Graham, knowing he'd have to do that twice more before the day was up, and began struggling toward the hut with his arms full of scratchy, heavy wood.

After a long trip filled with sweat, panting, and readjusting his grip, Howard set the box down heavily to open the Lodge door. He didn't want to risk scratching the floor by pushing the box along, so with a deep breath he lifted it once more, feeling sweat gather annoyingly on his upper lip.

He didn't notice that Vince was awake until he set the box down in the centre of the room and turned to the couch. The kid was tangled in the duvet, arm dangling to the floor, eyes bleary but focused on Howard.

"Wha's that?"

He twitched his hanging hand and looked down at the box, other hand emerging from under the duvet to rub at his eyes.

"It's our new bunk bed. I got it cheap at that old second-hand shop down the road. It's old but it's sturdy, and this way I've managed to save just enough money to afford plenty to eat this month.

There was that guilty look again. Howard hadn't told Vince his previous plan of pulling their cash together, but the boy seemed to have figured it out on his own. Seems the kid wasn't as thick as he let on. Howard told him that there were still two more crates, and that he would be back in a few minutes, before heading out the door. Vince rose tiredly from the couch, clad only in his vest and pants, and followed Howard out.

Despite Howard's protests that Vince go back to the Lodge, the boy just followed him silently all the way back to the gates. Howard kept looking back at him and cringing; the boy _had_ to be cold, what with the morning winter air nipping at Howard through his jacket. But if the kid had any complaint, he kept it to himself. Well fine, if the nuisance wanted to freeze and trail after Howard for two trips, that was his choice. Howard wasn't his father.

Bracing himself for the heavy load, Howard paused with his hands on the second box, watching in surprise as Vince walked over to the last box and studied the hulking thing as if he were actually considering picking it up. Howard nearly laughed out loud; the thing weighed more than the kid! Howard also didn't want Vince hurting himself by trying to carry such a heavy crate, so he raised his hand in the air, calling out the teen's name.

"Vince, hey, why don't you leave that to me, yeah? I'll just get it on my next trip out, alright?"

Vince favoured him with a scowl, copying Howard's stance and putting his hands on the third box.

"I ain't weak!"

With a look of determination, Vince bent down and hefted up the box. Howard could pinpoint the exact moment the kid realised this was a bad idea, and couldn't keep the grin off his face as the boy staggered and quickly dropped the box, hopping back to avoid it landing on his bare toes. He sent a glare Howard's way before huffing and staring at the ground.

Howard then lifted up his own box, feeling very powerful indeed, only to deflate when Graham let them back in without needing to see their passes, sending a friendly wave to Vince and a suspicious glance at Howard.

Vince led the way, clearly sulking, and Howard had the grace to erase his smug expression by the time they were back in the hut. Vince resolutely followed Howard back out for the third trip, even though he simply stood at the gate with his arms crossed, observing in silence. Howard was honestly surprised at how put off the boy seemed by his lack of physical strength, and yet didn't seem to care at all that he was prancing about in little blue pants for all to see.

Howard would _never _figure this boy out.

* * *

Sitting on the floor beside the boy and staring silently at the gathered parts of their new bed lying in a great big pile was getting Howard nowhere. There was a manual, but great help _those _always were...

Vince sighed into his cup of tea, clearly bored and still sulky about before. Howard gave a sigh of his own, this one of resolve, and knee-walked over to the heap of wood. Grabbing up the manual, he looked about the room for a good space to put the bed. They couldn't very well have it in the corner to the right of the front door; that was the kitchen. And the back walls held animal food and various supplies, as well as Howard and Vinces' dressers.

So the left wall it was, then. Howard only had to move the small table with the phone into the corner, dragging the phone cord behind. Soon Howard had the base of the bottom bed frame situated nicely. Picking up the little screwdriver he had had the mind to purchase, Howard got to work assembling the beds, and in just under an hour he stood before his new bed, feeling very proud of himself.

Sending a quick glance down at Vince, who had sat mutely on the sofa the entire time with his cold cup of tea. Howard supposed the boy refused to help out of some misplaced sense of spite. Really, it wasn't Howard's fault the kid was practically a toothpick!

Turning to face the boy, Howard let a wide grin overcome his features, but before he could open his mouth, Vince spoke in a quick monotone, face blank.

"Where's the mattresses?"

Howard's mouth closed with a clack.

"And the sheets."

Holy hell; could he have actually forgotten to buy some goddamn mattresses?

"And pillows."

Howard rested his face in his hands. In all his excitement as well as minding how much he spent, Howard had bought a bunk bed frame, but failed to purchase all the rest that came with it.

_'Fuck's sake, Moon.'_

Howard kicked the screwdriver, sending it skittering across the floor. If Vince was smirking, and Howard had a good inkling he _was_, he hid it well behind his cup.

Needless to say, the two had to spend one last night without the beds. Howard relinquished the sofa to Vince despite it being his turn, since he blamed himself for their lack of beds. Vince had been reluctant, first claiming that he liked the floor just fine, and then suggesting he and Howard share the couch. Like hell _that _was happening. Howard had curled up in the sleeping bag immediately, cutting off further argument.

* * *

Howard stretched his arms high above his head, mentally shaking the final pulls of sleep off and turned to look up at the mound of blankets that was the kid. He would never understand how someone could be so comfortable in such a position; curled in a ball on his side, Vince was tightly cucooned with only the top of his head showing. Howard much preferred sleeping on his back with feet hanging out of his duvet.

Howard sighed and reached up to lightly push against the blue fabric, calling softly the boy's name. On his fourth go, Vince finally began to stir, a low groan coming from the pile. After about five minutes of continuous nudging by Howard, the kid _finally_ turned over to peek blearily down at the older man.

"Come on, Vince, you should be used to our hours by now. Get up."

"Why the bloody hell do we have to get up at the friggin' crack o' dawn. The animals can wait."

Howard just gave the duvet one more pat and moved into the kitchen to start some coffee. He agreed completely with the boy, but one of them had to be the adult.

Vince groaned and muttered as he slithered feet first off the top bunk like a snake, not bothering to jump down like a normal person. He walked to the other end of the room with his eyes plastered shut, and began fumbling around in the second dresser.

Here was the part where Howard stood facing the coffee pot, not daring to turn around. Vince never bothered to go into the bathroom to get dressed like Howard, he simply began peeling off his threadbare Bowie shirt and pants and slipped into clean clothes that he always doused with perfume after he washed them. The boy didn't have many clothes, but he took amazingly good care of the ones he did own, which surprised Howard, what with how reckless the boy behaved on a daily basis.

Howard knew it was safe to turn around when he saw the boy from the corner of his vision as Vince headed toward the door to pull on his Keeper jacket and put on his favorite pair of boots.

The two spent a few minutes downing hot cups of coffee (Howard had been reticent to let Vince drink the stuff, but it was the only thing that truly woke the kid up), then Howard gathered together his own clothes for the day and slipped into the bathroom. When he came out soon after, raking his fingers through his hair, which seemed shorter than Howard remembered it just a few days ago, Howard observed yet another daily ritual he had grown accustomed to. Vince stood facing the small oval mirror standing on top of his dresser. Howard had never braved the small drawers to find out just what lay in their depths, but they seemed endless.

The kid was currently combing his hair, trying to get the short ends at the top to stand slightly up. He seemed to be growing it out, the black and red now spilling over the back of his neck. Howard would never understand it. If Tommy were here, he'd think Vince were a witch, or a woman.

Wow. That was the first time Howard had thought of Nooka in months.

"Alright, Howard?"

The man realised he had been staring off into space, or rather, at the kid, who was done beautifying himself it seemed.

"Yeah."

That was all Howard offered, and it was all Vince needed as the boy grinned and nodded his head, coming to stand beside the older man as he put on his own green jacket, and the two of them set out into the brightening morning, breathing deeply the sharp winter air.

(boring chapter, I know, but it does serve a few purposes.

Hey, guess what, the review box is directly below this sentence. Think about that.)


	18. Chapter 18

IT'SNOTATEAR: Okay, not happy with this chapter. But yet again, staring at it until my eyes bleed does nothing, so here it is.

Chapter 18

The small Chief Manager's office was over-crowded as all the zoo staff elbowed and whispered to one another. Howard was feeling quite claustrophobic by the time Fossil actually began speaking, voice rising to nearly a shout to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, everybody, cool it! Now, I have some important news to give you."

Vince and Howard had been the last to arrive, and thus were crammed against the office door. Vince had one hand on Howard's shoulder for balance as he stood on tip-toe to try and see over everyone. Howard felt sympathy for the kid; still too small to see over crowds, but too big to haul up onto his shoulders like a tot. Well, Howard _could _see all the way to Fossil, and wanted to tell the kid that he wasn't missing much.

"As you may have noticed, our beloved marmosets are missing. Now, there is no reason to panic just yet. They might've just gone into another enclosure or something. Maybe they'll show up by the end of the day..."

The rest of Fossil's speech was drowned out by the simultaneous voices of Howard, Gideon and Moose, the only keepers who really seemed to give a fuck.

"What do you mean missing?"

"How the hell do you loose three marmosets?"

"Do you know who the culprit is?"

The other staff were all speaking up as well, but more along the lines of "This is his important news?" or "I got up early for this shit?" and "They're just marmosets."

Fossil waved his hands erratically in the air, shouting once again.

"Alright alright, everybody. Cool it! Geeze. Alright, here's the fast version. We're gonna search the entire zoo for those furry little shits, and if we don't find them I want an extra keeper out at the gate with Graham every night. You can all take turns.

Now the room really _was_ in an uproar. Fossil had to practically scream out that the meeting was over and for everyone to get looking. And if Howard thought he felt crushed before, that was nothing compared to when all the bodies in the room suddenly turned toward him and began pushing their way past him and out the door. One such berk bashed Howard sharply on the shoulder, and he completely lost track of the poor kid.

Once the tidal wave had cleared, it was just Howard standing in the room with Fossil, who was ignoring him completely. Outside the building was where Howard relocated Vince, who had his hands over his nose. When he felt Howard's hand on his back, he turned slightly wet eyes up at him, anger in his muffled voice.

"Are the dicks who work here like this all the time!? Shit, thought they were gonna trample me like cattle if I didn't move with 'em! And one bitch caught me nose with her elbow!"

"Language. Here, let me see."

Vince let his hands drop, and Howard leaned down to inspect the boy's face. His nose was very red, but no blood could be seen. Howard stood straight and gave the boy a smile and pat on the back. He looked around, and was relieved to see the other keepers actually following instruction and searching around in all the other exhibits, as well as buildings and in the bins. Howard took Vince by the arm and began heading to the other end of the zoo to begin their search.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later found Howard standing tensely below a tree, arms out as if_ that _would be of any help if the teen up said tree fell. Howard had had no say in the situation; Vince had simply begun scrambling up a nearby tree after they had thoroughly searched out four different exhibits, only finding the animals belonging to each cage, angered and confused at having their homes raided so early in the morning.

"Come down!"

Howard couldn't help but call up for the dozenth time, knowing he sounded like a clucking mother hen but unable to stop himself. It would be just his luck to have the kid take a misstep somewhere up there and break his scrawny neck.

Thankfully Vince didn't call back down with yet another "in a bit!" or "they might be up 'ere!" Instead Howard was relieved the see the boy's faded trousers appear through the foliage. He released a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders once the boy had both feet safely back on the ground. He gave Howard a weird look as he turned and began marching toward another large tree. Howard scrambled after him, hands making flailing and grabbing motions against his will. _Really_, he needed to get ahold of himself! If the boy wanted to go breaking bones on tree limbs, that was his business. He wasn't the boy's father, for christ's sake.

Howard clacked his teeth against the words pushing their way out against them, and stood straight, arms against his sides as Vince began scaling up another tree. Howard held his breath and dug his nails into his palms while Vince rustled around the top of the old tree, searching for the missing animals. Just as Howard's arms were beginning to twitch and his lungs burn, the kid came dropping down suddenly from a low branch, landing skillfully on his feet. He gave Howard a shrug and frown.

"They're not up there, either. Where could they've gone?"

Howard was too busy letting in a deep breath to answer, and so mutely shook his head in reply. But when Vince made to reach up for the high hanging branch of a third tree, Howard wrenched him nearly off his feet by the collar of his jacket.

Vince made a sound of surprise and glared up at Howard before yanking his collar out of the man's grasp and pausing, before marching toward an exhibit instead. Howard followed silently, surprised at himself as much as the kid was, but also quite happy that the boy was obeying his show of authority. His smug sense of satisfaction was erased when he registered what cage door Vince was opening.

He once again grabbed the kid by his Keeper's jacket collar, yanking him back and causing him to elbow Howard sharply in the stomach. It was a testament to how angry Vince was that he didn't apologise, but stood with arms crossed as Howard caught his breath.

"What now!?"

"You can't go in there, that's Bollo's cage. That damned ape hates all men. Nearly tore my flippin' head off last time I got near him!"

The corner of Vince's mouth tugged up as he uncrossed his arms and tilted his head, as if Howard were some senile old fool from a horror film, warning off the main characters from visiting the creepy castle.

"Howard Howard Howard, you _forget_, I ca-"

"Talk to animals, yes I know, Vince, but this animal isn't one for chit-chat, alright? He's more than twice your size and twice your strength. I _mean it_, let's go search another enclosure."

Vince got a look of reluctant defeat in his eyes, and Howard felt smug once again as he turned and led the way a few yards over to the lemur exhibit. Turning to give the boy a pat on the shoulder, Howard's outstretched hand met thin air, and with a cold chill running up his veins, he saw the door to the gorilla's cage close with a snap. Howard cursed and bolted for the cage door, only to reel back from actually opening it. He instead ran around to the other side, where the inside was visible through thick bars, shouting the entire time.

"Shit! Vince! You get out here right now! I'm gon-"

His throat closed over his next words as he took the sight in. Vince sat calmly on the leafy exhibit floor, and beside him was Bollo, who's hands were roaming over Vince's jacket, fingering the chains and buttons. Vince was talking quietly to him, words Howard couldn't calm down enough to make out. He couldn't bloody well believe it!

The ancient ape's hands were now running through Vince's hair, as if to groom him. The gorilla seemed genuinely happy to have someone pay him a bit of attention, seeing as only three female keepers worked at the zoo and they rarely payed him any mind, and any men who came _close _were screeched at.

But here Bollo was, entirely ignoring Howard's presence, involved completely and utterly in Vince, who grinned up at Howard.

"See? Told you I'd get on with him! He's not so bad once you get talkin' with him. And here you doubted me and my ability. Told you I had a way with animals!"

_'That or he thinks you're a girl.'_

Howard just stood there blinking down at the teen, who turned back to Bollo, continuing their 'conversation', marmosets forgotten. Howard eventually threw his hands into the air as a sign of defeat for Vince, the earth, and god to see, before walking off to continue the search on his own.

* * *

The search continued on for the better part of the morning, before Fossil's voice came blaring over the speakers, stating that the search was over, and for everyone to resume their stations. The zoo had been closed for the day, so the keepers could spend extra time catching up on their daily schedules.

Howard assumed they hadn't located the missing marmosets, otherwise Fossil would've immediately opened the zoo back up for the afternoon. Heading back toward Bollo's enclosure, Howard crossed paths with Mrs. Gideon. He immediately felt sweat gather on his brow, and it took him a moment to gather his voice.

"H-hi there, Mrs. Gideon. Search, uh, go well?"

Gideon paused in her trek back to the Reptile House, turning to Howard and smiling, which caused the man to flush terribly. Hopefully she didn't notice.

"Oh, hello Howard! I've searched high and low, but no marmosets! Who knows where they have gone."

Vince chose this moment to appear from around a corner. He grinned as he spotted Howard, running up to his side and giving Gideon a polite nod. He had yet to properly meet the woman. Indeed, since his employment Howard had kept Vince well away from the other staff as much as he could. There were even parts of the zoo the kid hadn't been to yet! Okay, so Howard was being overly sheltering. But the shady bastards who worked here were most certainly _not_ the type he wanted Vince to be exposed to. Now Mrs. Gideon, on the other hand, was a lady Howard had been meaning to introduce the kid to for weeks!

"Vince, this is Elisabeth Gideon. Mrs. Gideon, this is-"

"Vince Noir."

The boy interrupted, smiling up at the taller woman, who gave Vince's attire and hair a strange look, but smiled and nodded her head politely before turning back to Howard.

"Do you suppose someone might've stolen them? Oh, imagine that, a thief entering the zoo at night, making off with animals! I'm going to put extra locks on my snakes' homes when I leave."

Howard's tongue felt swollen in his mouth, and his reply was short and half-muttered. Damn, you'd think after all these years he'd actually be able to hold a decent conversation with the woman! She must think him a total loser.

But if Gideon noticed Howard's awkwardness, she made no mention of it, simply smiled sweetly at him before heading off to her precious snakes. Howard stared after her with a grin slapped across his face before coming back to the present and erasing it quickly. He looked down at the boy, who was also staring after Gideon, but with a blank expression. Quick as a whip, his head turned up to look Howard in the eyes, features seeming sharper than normal.

"Do you fancy her?"

_'Blunt little biter.'_

"W-what!? That's not the kind of question you just _throw _at someone, Little Man! Now come on, we'd better see to our own animals."

Vince didn't reply, but followed after Howard as the man led the way to the small frogs and lizards. There Howard left the boy standing over the glass cages, looking lost in thought. Howard wanted to ask what had come over him, but decided to just bring it up later. He turned and quickly walked to his own station.

* * *

Howard entered the hut to find Vince slouching on the sofa, knees drawn up and a tattered black notebook leaning against them. He was scribbling furiously, pausing to glance Howard's way before bringing his legs higher, pencil continuing to move. Howard stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight of the kid actually quietly writing something in a notebook. He would've grinned and happily asked what it was the boy was writing if it weren't for the dour look about him.

Something about him made Howard approach slowly. The air between them held an unseen static, different to any kind Howard had felt before. Howard shook his head, mentally berating himself for acting on as if something were wrong. The kid was just writing, for god's sake! Nothing terrible had happened lately, unless- wait, what if Bollo had gone off on Vince when Howard left? Oh god, Howard had left him alone with that giant behemoth! Howard calmed himself and sat down beside the boy, close enough that their legs brushed lightly, eyes skittering up and down the boy for signs of injury. Seeing nothing Howard forced himself to breath evenly. He peppered his voice with nonchalance.

"Hey, Little Man, what are you writing? A diary?"

"No, not a diary. 'M not a little girl. It's a story, er, well, a _series_, that I've been working on for like two years now."

"Series? As in a book series?"

Wow. Once again Howard was taken aback at the kid's surprise intelligence, and once again he felt bad for feeling surprised in the first place. Vince nodded, and seemed to loosen up a bit at Howard's positive attention. The man noticed this, and made sure his face and voice showed nothing but contentment and interest in Vince's writings.

"Yeah, it's about this man named Charlie. Only, he ain't really a man, you see, he's made up of loose bubblegum. And he-"

"Loose bubblegum?"

Howard couldn't help the face he pulled, but Vince didn't seem to care, as he grinned and carried on.

"Yeah, he's all skeletal underneath, but you'd never know it for the _massive _wads of gum on 'im. He's molded into the shape of like a slug or somethin', and he has amazing adventures! He's genius!"

"Really? Ur-well, what adventure is he on now?"

Howard gestured at the paper littered with scribbles in handwriting so horrid Howard couldn't make a single full word out. Vince's grin shrunk slightly and he lifted the notebook once again, obscuring it from view with his legs. He stared down at it and played with the small pencil between his fingers.

"Well, nothin' much right now. Just...thinking about stuff. 'S nothin' important. He'll go on another adventure soon, though! When I write another, do you wanna read it? I don't really have any of the old ones. Y'see, I photo-copy 'em and leave 'em around markets. But if you want, you can be the first to read my next story."

This prospect seemed to please Vince greatly as his mega-watt smile came on like a light, and as ludicrous as this Charlie character sounded, Howard couldn't help but smile back and feel just a tiny bit excited to read the kid's writing. After all, how horrible could a bloke made of _blubblegum_ be?

* * *

Three nights into the double guard duty, it was now Howard's turn. Vince had yet to have _his_ first shift, and Howard had to practically staple him to his bed before he could leave the Lodge in peace. The kid wanted to come with him, of all ideas! Howard wasn't having it. It was bad enough that _he'd_ be a walking zombie come morning, he certainly didn't want the kid falling over himself as well.

Howard was in such an awful mood. He really, really didn't want to spend an entire night with Graham. As he zipped up his heavy brown coat, already shivering despite the hut's relative warmth, he tried desperately to find an answer to Vince's persistent questioning that would satisfy the little blighter.

"Why can't I come along? Oh please, Howard! I don't wanna be in here all by myself!"

He continued to rant and pace in circles around Howard as the fed up man pulled his shoes on. Vince had been rabbiting on like this for the better half of the day since they were informed it was Howard's shift. At first he had been comforting and patient, offering up a well of excuses and reasons why Vince couldn't tag along. But the daylight outside had grown thin, and so had Howard's patience, and before he could control himself he was snapping, whipping around to face the boy with a shout, raising his hand up into the air. Howard's intention of giving the kid a good smack was halted immediately by the slight flinch Vince made and how he stepped back from the taller man.

"_Stop!_ Alright? Stop it, Vince. You...you can't come with me, alright, you just can't! Now you need to get in bed and go to sleep. _Now_."

He pointed the raised arm at the bunk bed, holding firm even though he really wanted to apologise for frightening the boy. He raised his eyebrows, and that got Vince moving. The boy hurriedly walked across the floor and climbed up into the top bunk, giving Howard a quick glance before curling up on his side, facing the wall and pulling the mass of blankets over him. He said nothing more, and the silence rang out deafeningly.

Howard lowered his arm, stood there for a few minutes, and then with a great huff he walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

This wasn't the first time Howard had yelled at Vince, and it wasn't the first time he had had the strong urge to strike him, either. Howard knew he had anger issues; yet another gift acquired from his father. The old man would practically pop a vein if someone said something he disagreed with or something didn't follow his well-constructed plans. He most certainly didn't want to become his father, yelling and throwing crockery across the kitchen at his mother. His father had never hit his mother, thankfully, but his rage was the strongest reason he was now living alone in Leeds, and why Howard had not contacted him in almost eight years.

Howard himself had gotten into quite a few scrapes in his youth as well as his years at this zoo on account of his short fuse, but he always managed to keep it in check around the boy. Well, what with them living together, Howard couldn't be expected to have patience _all the damn time,_ could he?

He didn't acknowledge Ghraham beyond tapping on the gate to get him to open up, and he completely ignored the man's questions as to his identity as well as when his "help for the night would arrive". He simply stared off into the black sky, thinking.

* * *

His intention of Vince getting a good night's rest backfired spectacularly. If anything the kid seemed more nackered than _Howard_. The man flinched as soon as he laid eyes on the boy, already dressed and heading out the door as Howard was making his way back to the Lodge to wake him. He didn't see Howard, and the man didn't call out to him, simply stood and watched the boy stumble toward his station.

Great, now Howard felt like an asshole. But what on earth could cause the kid to look as if he'd not slept a wink?Surely the kid understood that Howard was only looking out for him. Yes, Howard was a control-freak; he'd admitted that to himself long ago. But he'd thought the kid knew and accepted this as well. Hmm, maybe he'd gone a bit too far with the yelling last night? But he'd shouted more at the boy before..._surely_ he can't've scared the kid!

But what _if_ he was? Howard's paranoia kicked into high-gear, his thoughts spiraling as he stood in place before the Lodge. What if the boy was now realising what a nutjob Howard was. What if he thought the man was much too dangerous to be around, to live with! Why, he'd very nearly struck the kid almost a dozen times now! And almost each time Vince had leaned away or flinched slightly, and Howard was always left feeling frustrated at himself and at the boy for acting on as if Howard were an alien or something!

What if he finally decided he wanted to move out, move away and back to him old home and back to his old life and old friends? Howard wasn't sure he could let him. Howard didn't think he could go back to the solitude and silence of the Lodge. If the kid tried to pack up and run, Howard would...he'd...he'd tie the little shit to the sofa!

No, he wouldn't. He'd cry like a bitch and lay on the floor for two to three weeks. The kid...the kid needed to stay here. How would he survive in the world outside these zoo gates!? No one else could watch over him like Howard did, of that the man was certain.

Howard was now convinced the child's madness had rubbed off on him. He was now officially insane. Ah well, at least this way they could request joined padded cells.

Startled from his thoughts by Fossil's morning announcement, Howard set off for his own place in the zoo, forgetting about the shower he had planned on.

* * *

Howard Moon speed-walked toward the Keeper Lodge. It was lunch hour, and he was starving. Walking through the front door and into the kitchen, Howard grabbed his thermos and brown bag from inside the fridge.

The zoo no longer had the funds to hire a chef to feed the keepers anymore. Now it was up to a few staff members who were either loyal enough or skint enough to cook for the rest of them, getting a bonus to their salaries for it. Howard personally always prepared his own lunch, not trusting the likes of Naboo when it came to anything he was ingesting. The downside was he always had to run to the Lodge to fetch it before running all the way back to their chosen spot, thus Vince was always there before him.

Said chosen spot was a small creaky bench underneath the main office window. Why there of all benches Howard wasn't sure, but Vince always seemed to like it. Howard supposed it was due to the music that would often drift down to them from inside Fossil's office room.

Upon rounding the corner of the building, Howard could see Vince eating a sandwich. He seemed more alert, and his silent wariness from last night had seemingly vanished. Now he just looked sulky. Good, Howard could deal with sulky. At least he wasn't angry enough to spend lunch alone.

The kid didn't look up at the man as he sat down on the old bench, paper bag in hand. Howard shifted silently, casting about for something to say. Usually Vince was the first to strike up conversation, but when he was in a sulk like this, Howard was left to break the ice.

"Why don't you just make something for lunch like I do? I don't like you eating that rubbish from the kiosk, god knows what's in it. Hell, _I'll _make your lunch for you."

"'s fine, Howard. And it's not rubbish. Just cause you don't like the people who work here don't mean they're out to poison us. Besides, I like Naboo, he tells great stories."

Howard grimaced. Yet another example of his deranged attempt at keeping Vince from the other keepers failing. He _really_ didn't want Vince ever talking with Naboo or anyone that slime associated with. Against his will, Howard's mind conjured up images of Naboo offering Vince drugs and taking him to gatherings with his shady cohorts. Howard chased the imaginings away and hastily withdrew his own lunch, a tupperware of spaghetti, and began fishing around the bag for his fork. He huffed, mouth opening before he could stop it, voice harsher than he intended.

"Well I don't like it."

From the corner of his vision Howard could see Vince finally look over at him. He couldn't see his expression though, but he was not turning his head to look. He just began eating, letting the silence coat them for nearly five minutes. This time it was Vince who's quiet voice broke the spell, filled with an understanding that made Howard look him in the face despite his reluctance.

"You don't have to be so overprotective, y'know. I ain't stupid. I know how to look after myself, Howard. Been doing it my whole life. 'M not a kid anymore. I _know_ you still think I am. Can see it in you, but I'm _not_-"

"Yes you are. Vince, your _fifteen_. You're still a bloody kid."

Vince smiled at Howard, face filled with an odd mixture of fondness toward the older man and bitterness at something far off and away.

"Tell that to all the kids I grew up with. All outta the house now with jobs and payments. Some even married. Most with little kids of their own. 'S scary to think about. Y'know, Leroy's girlfriend's havin' a baby. I'm _well _excited. Leroy though, he's gonna _shit _'imself when it happens."

Vince laughed lowly at that for a moment, and Howard was relieved to see that the kid seemed at ease now. He could still feel a slight flush on his neck from the embarrassment of what he'd just said in the past few minutes. He _really _didn't like getting all open and feely to anyone. But he just felt like he had to say these things to Vince sometimes. Letting out a long sigh, the man supposed it was alright to open up, maybe. He supposed. Only if it was to the kid, and only once every blue moon.

(Howard's a bit extreme in this one, but that's just how he _is_. He's got a temper problem, as well as a control issue. This together makes for a very rocky relationship between himself and Vince. And Howard also has the nasty habit of letting his paranoid thoughts spiral too often. He's so ruled by his emotions he just lets them get away from him. It's something that I always picked up on in the series, and wanted to represent it here in this fic.

I dearly hope everyone's 'reading between the lines' of this story, and pick up on a few of the _very_ subtle things I put in it, especially in future chapters and the coming sequels. Don't bash your heads in searching, though, as they are _incredibly_ subtle, and mostly just there as shadows in the story's overall image.)


	19. Chapter 19

WELLTHATESCALATEDQUICKLY: Things move forward at quite a fast pace in this ch, and once again I'd like to remind everyone of Howard's control issues and Vince's all around lack of reality. Enjoy, I just about sacrificed my blood to finish this. Heh.

Chapter 19

The look on the kid's face told Howard _exactly_ how hilariously ironic he was finding the situation at hand. It was a freezing Tuesday night, and it was Vince's first turn on guard duty with Graham. Honestly, who in their right mind suggested such a stupid idea in the first place? Why did the kid have to be out there alone with that daft headcase for an entire night, tired and cold? Let Fossil do double duty if he was so hell-bent on assigning it to innocent children who only started working here a month and a half ago! Fossil and Graham can freeze into icicles together and be done with it.

All these thoughts and more curled and writhed about in Howard's mind as the man paced back and forth. He'd been doing so silently for the past ten minutes, while Vince watched on, expression flip-flopping between exasperation, humor, anger and fondness. He was already dressed in his Keeper jacket as well as a large black faux fur jacket and three pairs of socks stuffed into Howard's huge brown boots. He let out a heavy sigh through his nose, calling out to the man currently having a meltdown.

"Look, Howard, it's no big deal! I mean, c'mon, it's just for one night and you've already been twice now an' you can't just go an' have my turn, that's not fair and you know it! I'll be fine it's only cold air and Graham for christ's sake! Jesus Howard you'd think I were going to spend the night with Ming the Merciless or somethin'. 'M not a baby, I can go on my own-"

"No, no you can't! What if there really is some lunatic snatching animals from the zoo, what then! An-and what if he decides to come tonight? Graham, his- the man's mind is made of piddle! I've already gone twice; look, I'll just take your turn and you can stay here and we can all get on with our lives!"

The look Vince was giving him made Howard feel about two feet tall, but he wasn't backing down!

"_Howard_, first off, this thief guy ain't shown 'is face for two weeks now, since the marmosets. Hell, we don't even know if they _were_ stolen in the first place! Second, it's just gonna be for one night, me an' Graham, guard duty. Yeah, it's gonna be cold and annoyin', but soon it'll be over an' we can all get on with our lives!"

Having his own words turned back on him was just another of Howard's pet peeves, and it made him even angrier as he scrabbled about for something to shout next at the stubborn little blight of his life.

"Well, then, if you're so set on going then I'll just go with you! We can both-"

"No, Howard. There's no use both of us being zombies come morning."

Now the boy was doing it on purpose. Mocking Howard's very words from a week ago; down to the way he stood and a mock of his accent, that would've made the man laugh under different circumstances. Now it only caused Howard's temper to kick off even more. A part of his mind knew he was being a big blasted baby, but that side was overcome by his short fuse, and before Howard knew he was kicking the small table holding their television violently, hurting his foot more than anything. The table lifted a little as it moved loudly, and the tv simply shifted in place. Vince moved away, going to stand beside the door.

This caused Howard to get ahold of himself. He took in a few deep breaths, eyes closed. Control; he needed better self-control than this! Howard again felt like a villain. He stood awkwardly in silence for another minute, looking over at the kid, who was in turn watching Howard with a blank expression.

_'Right then, time to admit defeat.'_

Howard hated, no, _loathed_ not being in control of a situation; especially one involving the kid. But, if he had to concede, he'd concede on his own terms. Meaning, Vince wouldn't be out there with just two jackets and extra socks on, no flippin' way, sir!

The man wordlessly went to the first dresser on the other side of the room. There he dug about before removing his heavy brown coat. He walked over to Vince, who remained where he stood, to Howard's great relief. Howard handed the coat to Vince and then moved to the coat rack, taking down a long white scarf. Vince meanwhile was struggling into the large material. It was difficult, what with two jackets already on. His face seemed to portray that he thought Howard was being excessive, but the older man had heard news of possible snow soon, and the temperature outside attested to that. He wasn't waking up in the morning to an ill Vince.

Helping the kid into the jacket, which came down to Vince's shins and practically swallowed the teen whole, Howard began winding the scarf around his neck and head. Once he finally stepped back he had to suppress a grin at how the kid looked much like a bigger version of his long-past, seven-year-old self. Bundled into an oversized coat, mouth and nose hidden beneath a knitted scarf. Vince caught on to this, and he lowered his eyebrows at Howard as if to say, "don't you _dare _laugh."

* * *

Howard tossed and turned fitfully throughout the night. He kept drifting off, only to find himself awake and staring at the bed above him, listening to the wind whistle through the small cracks in the hut walls and wondering how cold it was outside. Fossil had to've done this on purpose, he had to. Giving Howard nights when it was only a bit nippy out and then assigning the kid guard duty just when the wind began picking up and the temperature plummeted. It was all Fossil's fault. He hated that slimey bastard.

Huffing for about the hundredth time, Howard settled back down on his back and stared up at the empty bed above his head. Since when did it become so hard to fall asleep _without_ the sound of snores? Howard closed his eyes and finally fell into a steady sleep.

* * *

The first thing Howard became aware of was a strange cold sensation on his foot. He also figured it had to be quite early in the morning, as his alarm clock hadn't gone off yet. There it was again! That light, feathery feeling of cold on his feet...on his toes...

Howard made to move his foot, and was slightly paniced when something held it down tightly. In his foggy state of mind he didn't know what to think! He pulled harder on his foot, causing a voice to ring out over the silence, shattering all sleep from Howard's mind.

"Oi, watch it, you'll smudge!"

Hastily wiping the grit from his eyes, Howard leant up on his elbows and stared with blurry vision down to the end of his bed, where he could make out Vince. The kid was kneeling on the floor before the bed, and had one hand clamped down on Howard's right foot, while in his other he held a nailpaint brush. When Howard's vision was clear enough he could make out an annoyed expression upon the boy's face.

"Don't. Move."

Favoring Howard with a sharp look and raised eyebrows to show he meant it, Vince resumed his work, holding Howard's foot still and painting the last two toes with a light shade of purple.

_'What the hell...'_

Things finally clicked home in Howard's brain and he sat upright, jerking his foot out of Vince's grasp with a glare down at the boy. Vince glared back, sitting back on the floor and recapping the small bottle. Howard absently noted that Vince was also sporting the paint on his fingernails. The older man stood up from the bed, causing Vince to walk forward on his knees.

"Careful, wait til it dries!"

"And why would I do that? Get it off, now!"

"Why?"

"Because! Men don't wear nailpaint!"

"_I _wear nailpaint!"

_'Yeah, but you're not a real man, are you?'_

Howard kept that last one to himself, aware of how hurtful it sounded. He opted instead to silently glare down at his now purple toenails. He moved to sit on the couch, grabbing the remote and ignoring the kid as he continued to knee-walk toward Howard. He was flipping quickly through the channels when he once again felt Vince's hands on his right foot, lifting it up and blowing on it to dry the paint faster. He was sorely tempted to kick the kid in the face, and the mental image of Vince with purple smeared across his cheek brightened Howard's dismal mood. He decided to just let the boy be; after all it wasn't as if anyone would ever see his toes. He wore socks and shoes everywhere. The only one who would know was the damn kid. Ah well.

Finally satisfied with his handiwork, Vince plopped down on the couch with a smile, watching the channels flick by until Howard eventually settled on a World War I documentary. The comfortable silence shared between them stretched on for twenty minutes, Vince slowly scooting over until he could lean slightly against Howard. Howard went stiff when he felt the kid's weight on him, but after a while settled down. In fact, if he were to be honest with himself, the man might just admit that having the kid try to cuddle up to him was rather adorable, reminding him fondly of all the times he'd carried this very same boy around when he really _was _a little boy.

Howard's brain once again clicked off, refusing to dwell on such sentimental rubbish of the past. After all, those days were over, and he couldn't very well shrink the kid back down. Best to just get over all these paternal tugs and pulls that kept cropping up out of nowhere.

* * *

Lunch rolled around that day, and Howard came walking around the office building corner to see the familiar sight of the boy already sat upon their bench. He looked up at the older man when Howard settled down with his food, and full minutes passed by before the kid began to speak, which was unusual on its own.

"Hey, Howard...I know how you been in a bit of a mood lately, and...I got a little surprise set up for you."

Howard met the kid's eyes, wanting to first of all refuse the fact that he'd been 'in a bit of a mood', but his mind immediately skipped ahead to the 'surprise' part.

"Wait, what? What surprise?"

Vince's face broke out into a mischievous grin, and he went back to eating his own meal, voice light and airy, and filled with the cheekiness of a child who knew a secret.

"Oh, just a little surprise."

"...Well, what is it?"

"I can't tell you that. Then it wouldn't be a surprise!"

"Vinc-"

"Oh you'll find out soon enough. This Friday night, actually. Don't make any plans, cause we're goin' out that night."

Howard made several attempts in the next hour to get some answers out of Vince. He tried everything from pestering to intimidating to bribing the kid, but Vince just held his tongue as well as that goddamn smirk on his face. By the time their break was over, Howard sulked silently back to his post.

* * *

Howard had actually forgotten about Vince's surprise by the time he stumbled tiredly into the hut days later to hear the teen cursing loudly in the bathroom. Howard stood in the bathroom doorway and watched Vince struggle with their faulty water pipes, which often would refuse its owner hot water. After almost eight years of dealing with said plumbing, Howard was an expert, and pulled the kid aside with a smile. He gestured for Vince to pay close attention, and then turned the hot water valve. Predictable, icy water was all that streamed forth, but after a few precise smacks to the exposed pipes in the wall with a wrench Howard kept in the sink cabinet, steam began to fill the tiny room, and Vince gave Howard his "you're a deity" smile.

"Cheers, Howard."

Of course, everything turned sour when the damn kid with no shame began peeling off his trousers, and Howard ran from the room so fast he smacked his elbow on the doorframe. He stood with his back to the bathroom, listening to Vince step into the small space and closing the shower door, distorting his image to a pale blur. Howard clutched at his arm with a grimace, waiting in silence for the horrid rings of shock to recede. Once they finally did he moved to the couch and turned on the television.

To Howard's surprise, he heard the water shut off after barely five minutes. Usually the prima donna stayed in for around forty minutes, which only gave Howard a few minutes of hot water for himself. The boy came walking out, steam curling around him and covered in a towel, and walked quickly toward his dresser. Before Howard could get a word out, Vince looked at him over his shoulder.

"Make your shower quick, we gotta get ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For your surprise, remember? And people call _me _dense."

It all came rushing back to Howard, and the man mutely went into the bathroom, tripping over Vince's clothes he'd failed to pick up off the floor. Just another thing Howard had to put up with since the kid came along. He always got stuck doing the boy's laundry. Vince was quite incapable of doing much of anything for himself.

Howard was about two minutes into relaxing in the warmth when there came a quick knock at the shower slide-door. Howard leapt out of his skin, letting out a girly shriek as he looked at the blurred sight of the intruding kid with no shame at all.

"Howard! I forgot to say, make sure you wash your hair! And dress nice!"

With that, Vince left the bathroom, and had the courtesy to close the door behind him, leaving the man pressed awkwardly against the cold shower wall. Dress nice? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Howard crept from out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair dripping everywhere. The kid was dressed up in a tight yellow shirt that was clearly for girls, and aqua skinny jeans Howard had never seen before, meaning that the boy had recently bought them just for this occasion. He was currently straightening his hair, and paid Howard no mind as the man rifled about for some 'nice' clothes to wear. He really didn't have much aside from work clothes. He eventually settled on a plain white shirt that was actually pale pink if you looked close enough. It was several years old and a little tight around the middle, but it was the best he owned. He pulled on a pair of loose light blue jeans, and felt quite stylish as he stood behind Vince, catching his reflection. The kid spent another ten minutes in silence as he finished his make-up, doning various rings and bracelets, looping a long while faux pearly necklace around him. He eventually turned to Howard and looked the man up and down, giving him and appraising nod, before grabbing him by the arm and sitting him on the small footstool before the mirror, turning on his blue hairdryer and grabbing a comb.

As the kid got to work on Howard's hair, the man was too lost in thought to put up much resistance. He was quite curious as to what his surprise would be, especially since Vince was extra dolled-up. He didn't want to be mean to the kid, but he just _had _to ask, after wanting to for a long time. Why on earth would someone who bristled if it was so much as hinted that they looked like a girl, go and dress like a girl!?

"Vince, um, now don't take this the wrong way, but if we're going out to a nice restaurant or something...what I mean to say is, erm, why do you...why are you dressed so _camply_?"

Vince paused in his styling, comb entangled in Howard's loose curls, but continued on after a moment of staring down at Howard. His face remained aloof as he visibly fished for a reply. Eventually he simply shrugged his shoulders, turning off the blowdryer and setting his things down, letting Howard stand up and inspect his hair.

Howard remained silent, expecting more of an answer from the boy, but when the shrug seemed to be all he would get, he couldn't dredge up the courage to restate his inquiry. Fine, let the boy be a mystery. As if he wasn't enough of an anomaly.

* * *

Howard watched his breath ghost out into the night air as he followed Vince down yet another street. They'd been walking in this horrific cold forever! The brat hadn't even told Howard _where _it was they were headed to.

"Vince, please, at least tell me what it is we're doing."

"Ah ah ah, Howard, just another block, I promise."

Soon they were standing outside a tall dark building. It seemed to be some kind of club or restaurant, but before he could read the title off the place, Vince was pulling him through the front doors.

Inside everything was darkly lit. There were many well-dressed people sitting at tables surrounding a small stage, on which a woman was singing in a light, lilting voice. Howard stood transfixed by her beauty in her lovely white gown, and looked over to see Vince also watching with a small smile. He then snapped out of it and led Howard toward a back hallway, where they eventually entered a room. It was much brighter in there, and Howard squinted around at all the people sitting before vanity mirrors, touching up their makeup and practicing on their various instruments. And that's when he spotted it. Over by an empty chair sat Howard's acoustic. He hadn't even noticed its disappearance. Hell, he hadn't played on it for about a week now. Oh god. Realisation struck, and Howard whirled around to loom over the boy, who looked back up at him calmly.

"What. The hell. _Is this_?"

"Well, you always sing an' all whenever it's just the two of us, an' those few times I got you to do songs in the zoo when others were around chattin', and I _told _you that you should do it live. You're really good, Howard!"

"But I can't perform in front of people! I...I don't even have a song to sing!"

"Oh c'mon, Howard, I know you know at least _one _song."

Howard closed his eyes and forced himself not to hyperventilate. Already the room felt much too hot. The room seemed to shrink in size, why were all these people pressing in on him!?

He felt Vince guide him to a dark corner beyond a clothing rack, and Howard was grateful beneath all the rage he currently felt for the kid. He opened his eyes, a million escape plans dancing through his mind. And then he looked down at the kid, who was holding Howard's hand in both of his own, thumb rubbing in an attempt at comfort. Vince seemed slightly regretful, but he continued on in a calm voice.

"I know you can do this, Howard. You're talented. You're amazing. You can play that guitar better than most bands I've seen, and you have a beautiful voice. You _do_."

It would be so easy for Howard to push this puny kid away and walk the fuck out of there, go back home and get some sleep. So why was it so impossible? Howard felt like screaming as his shoulders slumped and he lowered his head in defeat. Vince gave him a quick hug, and waited patiently for Howard to look at him again before continuing.

"Alright, um, you should be on in about ten minutes. Do you know what song you're gonna sing?"

What song he's gonna sing...holy hell, he was about to sing in front of a room of strangers.

"...Well, there's...kind of...only one song that I know...well, that I know the notes _and_ words to, and that I can play on my acoustic..."

"...Which is?"

"Hurt, by Johnny Cash."

Vince stared up at him for a good long minute before a strange kind of disbelieving half-smirk came over him, raising his eyebrows at the man.

"Howard...that is _the most _depressing thing I think I've ever heard."

"Well it's all I've got!"

"I know I know, and I think it's great. Sad as shit, but it suits you. Go with it."

Howard sighed and couldn't help tiny waves of panic shift over him. He felt Vince pull his coat off, and faintly heard the music from onstage end. Before he could catch his breath Vince was grabbing his guitar and pulling him back down the hallway. Holy shit. He wasn't ready for this. And yet here it was. Vince gave him a small shove toward the steps leading onto the stage, and he could hear a man's voice announcing his name. Vince handed him his acoustic, which he held numbly in his arms. Oh christ he felt lightheaded. He couldn't help but look over his shoulder at the boy, who stood back and gave Howard his best sunshine smile, and Howard was somehow able to make it onto stage on his own.

And then he was alone, elevated before a shadowed crowd as a hot light was blasted onto him from above. On the stage there was a tall stool and a microphone, and Howard seated himself, feeling sweat gather on his palms as he positioned his guitar.

"Ah, hello. My name's Howard Moon. And, um, I'm going to be doing a small song..."

Shutting himself up before he began rambling, Howard caught sight of the kid's silhouette as he made his way to an empty table near the back. He felt more than saw Vince's great big smile up at him, and let his fingers glide over the strings, getting a feel for the notes before beginning.

The words came easily to him, even though he hadn't sang this song since he was about fourteen. Memories of his father playing Cash LPs on repeat, much to his mother's ire, echoed through his mind as his voice grew stronger, and before he knew it his fingers were playing out the final notes. He was almost regretful that it was over. Howard felt he could've sat up there and sang the night away, especially with how the crowd was applauding. Howard stood with a smile, filled with warmth at how these people seemed to like him- no, _love_ him. Hey, even one person was whistling! Oh no, wait, that was the kid.

Yes, he could plainly see Vince amongst the shadows, standing now from his chair, whistling and waving at Howard. Howard couldn't help but laugh as he exited back off stage.

He didn't even make it completely down the steps before the kid was on him, knocking the guitar to the floor and squeezing the life out of Howard. The older man stiffened on instinct, but the fuzzy warmth was still bubbling inside him, so he wrapped his own arms around the small teenager, lifting him off the floor and hearing the sound of the boy's back cracking dully.

He held him like that for a few seconds before Vince began making dramatic wheezing noises, and so Howard lowered him back to his feet with a laugh. The boy was grinning so wide Howard was sure his face would split open.

"You were amazin'! Told you you would be."

"Yeah...thanks, Vince. I mean, don't _ever_ pull something like this again, but thanks."

Vince laughed at that and once again pulled Howard by the arm, leading back toward his vacated table. There the two sat down, and Howard had to lean against the white cloth of the table. He still felt dizzy, and slightly nauseous. He was interrupted from his mental spiraling by Vince's hand on his own. He looked up at the boy across from him.

"Buy me a drink, yeah?"

Howard should've seen that one coming. He groaned and leant his head on one hand. He reallydidn't want to buy the kid alcohol. He _really_ didn't want the kid pissed, again. But he sure as hell needed a drink himself. So he grudgingly gestured a waiter over and ordered a Bartles and Jaymes for himself and a raspberry martini for the kid, who snickered to himself as the man left.

"You remember what I drank the last time?"

"Well, yeah."

"You're so weird, Howard. That was _months _ago."

Howard gave Vince a baleful look that was only partly staged, and within moments their drinks were served, and the hours flew by for Howard as he and the boy enjoyed the other performers that graced the stage. Most were pretty talented, some not so much. By the time Howard checked his watch and realised that it was nearing 2 am, he had nursed three drinks, not wanting to get actually drunk. The kid had no such qualms, already draining his sixth glass, and looking more than bit bright-eyed. Howard was going to regret his decision to let the kid drink, he could feel it already.

"Alright, Vince, we have work tomorrow. Have you forgotten? We need to go home and get some sleep."

"Aw, Howard, c'mon! Just another hour, I swear!"

"No, Vince, now come on."

Howard waved over their waiter, quickly paying for their drinks, and then stood from the table and walked over to the kid. He pulled him up by his underarms and lead him back to the exit. The boy stumbled the entire way and had to lean heavily on the taller man, who grumbled and resigned himself to holding the kid up by his armpits, half-dragging him down the street.

* * *

Vince began singing softly as they rounded another block, halfway home, his words nonsensical and weird.

"_I can't see, I can't breathe. I'm spiralling now in infinity, yeah_."

Howard just let him be, not offering commentary, although the words were a bit disconcerting, if Vince was trying to tell Howard he couldn't breathe anymore. But the boy laughed airily and continued on, voice light and half-whispered.

"_Oooh, look what you did, you came into my woods with your tiny little eyes and your hair made of wool..._"

His voice dissolved into meer humming as he leaned heavily back into Howard, who was behind the boy, guiding him down the pavement. God, only two more blocks if Howard's guess was correct. He really, really didn't want to have to carry Vince the rest of the way.

* * *

Twenty minutes later and Howard was pushing the Lodge door open with his shoulder, arms full of snoring kid. Goddammit. The boy wasn't as heavy as Howard had feared, and the only true obstacle had been trying to keep Vince from squirming. As the zoo gates came into sight, the boy had gone completely limp in Howard's grip, snoring almost immediately.

Well, Vince may have grown vertically since the last time Howard carried him, but he still roughly weighed the same, which worried the man. He really needed to insist on making the kid's lunch for work days. Naboo and those others didn't have any clue what kind of nutrients a teenager needed, and the boy barely ever ate any dinner, and had recently declared breakfast obsolete. Hell, he devoured hundreds of smoothies that he made himself, but other than that Howard was surprised the child had the energy that he did.

Grunting, Howard lifted the child onto the top bunk, pulling his blue duvet over him. The boy immediately hummed lowly and curled up onto his side, arms coming around the duvet to grip it in a sleepy hug, snoring once more.

Howard shook his head and went to change into some pajamas before laying down in his own bed, making sure his alarm clock was on. Exhaustion hit him instantly, and he was out.

* * *

Howard had to literally pull the boy out of his bed the next morning, and would've let him drop to the floor, if he wasn't such a pushover. Instead he found himself once again carrying the boy, who muttered curses at him, begging Howard to just let him sleep and whinging about a blistering headache. Served the brat right.

Walking to the sofa, Howard let Vince drop with a bounce onto the cushions. Vince immediately curled up into a corner of the couch. Howard grabbed the teen by his legs to uncurl him. This earned the man more curses from the child. Howard was just glad he'd had the foresight to shower and dress before waking this nightmare of a teenager.

He sighed as he pulled off the kid's jeans and shirt, relieved that the younger male didn't completely flip, just furrowed his brow up at him through closed eyes. Once he was down to his pants, Howard scooped him back up and carted him into the bathroom. Once in there he slid open the shower door and lowered the boy onto the white cold tiles, still wet from his own shower a few minutes ago. Vince now had a hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright bathroom light reflecting off of all the white in the room.

Howard was just cruel enough to not give him a warning before turning the valves for the water. He turned the hot and cold tabs just so, in a way he'd perfected so that the water would be an acceptable temperature. He didn't want to douse the boy with an icy torrent, he wasn't _that _cruel.

Vince obviously didn't see how gracious Howard was being. The boy shot up onto his elbows, letting out a shriek and opening his eyes finally to look about him in confusion. Howard stood calmly at the door, looking down on Vince as the boy scrambled to his knees and sent a molten glare the man's way.

"_Howard_!"

"You have ten minutes."

That was all Howard offered the boy. Well, that and a small smirk as he slid the door shut and walked out of the bathroom, closing the wooden door behind him. He allowed himself a quiet laugh as he heard Vince bang against the plastic of the shower slide-door, before finally dissolving into muttered threats and occasional shouts at Howard.

* * *

Vince still looked hungover by the time Howard sat down beside him on their bench. He noticed with a wave of pity that the boy didn't have any food with him. He offered Howard a small nod before going back to staring at the ground. Howard felt sympathy for him; poor kid most likely still had a migraine from the busy day of work. He really should've made him stay in, take the heat from Fossil, even work both of their shifts. He could do it. The kid-

"Shut up."

"...I wasn't talking..."

Vince offered him a reprimanding smile.

"Oh please, I can see the steam risin' from your ears, can hear the cogs 'n wheels turning. 'M fine. Just a bit ill feeling, s'all. It's my fault anyway, shoudln't've drank so damn much when I knew we had work. Just felt so excited for you, I mean, you were_ really good_, better even than I thought you'd be, and-"

"Alright, now _you_ shut it. Do you need to turn in early?"

"No, definitely not. I'll be _fine_. Trust me, I've done myself in worse than this."

Howard didn't want to know, so didn't say anything more. Instead he began eating his lunch, offering some to Vince, who refused the food but drank half of Howard's tea. The hour passed in silence. Usually Howard and Vince spent their free hour conversing and even walking about the zoo, but with Vince in a down mood they stayed on the bench and enjoyed the quiet. Vince mutely leant against Howard, closing his eyes and drifting in and out of a light doze.

* * *

"Vince? Vince?"

Howard was currently walking up and down the zoo in search of his errant kid. He had left his post exactly two minutes early in order to jog to Vince's station, so that he could walk the kid back to the Lodge. If he remembered correctly, he had a some old migraine pills in a cupboard above the stove. However, when he reached the small glass cages, he found that the kid had also apparently left his post early. Now he was passing exhibits in search of the boy, more than a bit worried that he might be seriously ill somewhere.

Howard turned to march to the Lodge. Maybe Vince had gone there. Just then he heard the distinct sound of familiar laughter coming from around a corner. He should've known.

Howard came around to face the bars of Bollo's enclosure, and saw within it Vince and the gorilla, sitting against the wall and enjoying each other's company. He stood there in silence, observing Vince as he talked to the gorilla about apes and monkeys that he claimed to have known back in India. Even if Vince really could talk to animals, Bollo was nearly deaf, and probably heard only every other word from the kid's mouth, but the old animal seemed thrilled to have someone talking to him, and Howard felt a pang of sadness for the gorilla. If only he didn't have such a vendetta against men.

Vince took notice of Howard, and smiled up at the man, gesturing for him to come over.

"Alright, Howard. C'mon, get in here! Me an' Bollo was just swappin' stories of the good ol' days in the jungle."

Howard took a step away from the bars, holding his hands up and raising his eyebrows.

"No thank you. Last time I went in there that giant tried ripping my arms off. I'll not be repeating that experience any time soon."

"Ah, you're such a _spoilsport_, Howard! Besides, he won't hurt you, not while I'm in here. We're mates! And I told him you was alright, so-"

"Yeah still not going to happen, Vince."

"_Pleeeease_?"

"No. I'm going to the Lodge. You can join me any time you like."

Howard turned and made to walk toward the Lodge, head held high. He was interrupted when he bowled over the small body of Naboo. Goddammit. How could someone his own age be Vince's size? And what was he doing scuttling about underfoot like a rat!

"Oi!"

"Hey, watch it!"

It was no secret that there was animosity between them, and the two did their damnedest to avoid each other. Vince either didn't pick up on the angry static radiating in the air, or he ignored them as he waved brightly at the short man.

"Hi, Naboo! Where're you headed off to?"

Naboo smiled back at Vince, and Howard's mood plummeted. If he wasn't so petrified of Bollo, he'd go inside the cage just so he could sit beside Vince and glare hatefully at Naboo. Maybe if he sent enough evil thoughts the 'shaman's' way, Naboo would pick up on them and leave.

He didn't. Instead Naboo stepped forward, putting his hands on the bars, and Howard noticed with surprise that Bollo didn't growl at him, as he normally would have. Hmm. Maybe Vince _did_ calm the beast down.

"Actually, 'm heading out wiv some friends. You wanna join? We don' have work tomorrow, so we're goin' all out."

"Sure! Been a while since I've gone to a party."

Vince smiled happily as he stood up, making for the exhibit door. It took Howard quite few moments to form a coherent sentence that wasn't something along the lines of "_Fuck that hell no you're staying here with me Vince fuck you Naboo go die die die_!" By the time he opened his mouth to speak, Vince was all the way around to their side and speaking with Naboo.

"Wait! Vince, you can't just _go off_ with any stranger who offers you a good time!"

"But, Naboo's no stranger, we work with 'im!"

"_Vince_. I really want you to stay in tonight. We'll watch Colobus if you want."

Howard wasn't above bribery, and he knew how annoyed Vince became whenever Howard entered the hut only to turn off his favorite show. Vince looked torn and shifted his gaze between the two older men for nearly a minute, before giving Howard a beseeching stare.

"Why don't you come with us, Howard?"

"No!"

"Well, _I'm _going, alright?"

"No!"

"Howard-"

"_Hey_!"

Both arguing parties stopped to look over at Naboo, who stood beside Vince and looked up at Howard with a look one might give to a child unwilling to let go of his mother's skirt. He put a hand on Vince's shoulder, and Howard's own hand twitched where it hung at his side.

"Vince is a big boy, okay? If he wants to come and have a fun time wiv me an' me mates, he can. He doesn't need some greasy old man tellin' him off. Now, are you comin', Vince? Cause I gotta leave now."

"Um, yeah, I'm coming."

Vince seemed more than a little subdued as he followed Naboo, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder at Howard with a blank look. Howard immediately wanted to follow them. Hell, he'd spend the night with those slimeballs if it meant he could watch over the kid. But his stubborn pride wouldn't allow it, and the man found himself watching Vince disappear from sight in the growing dusk. Only when the cold wind began to pick up did Howard pull himself from his thoughts and head toward the Lodge.

* * *

Howard was resolutely trying not to fall asleep as he sat before the droning television. Looking down at his watch, he sighed in frustration when he saw that only one minute had passed since he'd checked it last. It was 3:45 am, and the kid was not home yet. Sure, it was their night off, and Vince and Howard often stayed up this late on their own. But Howard felt nothing but cold dread building up in his stomach as the minutes ticked slowly by and the boy failed to return. He was going to murder Naboo. He was going to march across the zoo to that motherfucker's kiosk, lean over the counter, and strangle him. _Where was Vince_?

Howard's eyelids dragged down once more, and he no longer had the energy to fight it. The worried man fell asleep, with his last conscious thought being that he'd develop ulcers before he was thirty.

* * *

A sharp crash woke him, and Howard fell over onto his side on the sofa as consciousness rushed back into him. He wiped his eyes and looked about for the cause of the noise. His tired eyes landed on Vince, who was lying on the floor in front of the dressers, his fisher's box having fallen to the floor beside him, spilling colorful items all about the unconscious kid.

Howard was up before his body had completely awakened, causing him to stumble and collapse beside the teenager. Howard's heart was already hammering, and he shook the boy, calling his name with rising panic. Vince was unresponsive, lying face down, limbs spread out. Howard lifted him up and turned him over in his lap, grabbing Vince by the face and shouting at him to wake up. He distantly realised that he should call an ambulance; the boy could be dying for all he knew! But Howard couldn't move, he could only sit there and call out to Vince and shake him.

A miracle happened then. Vince's eyes opened slightly. They rolled around, looking about himself as if in a dream.

"Vince! Vince, please, can you hear me!?"

Vince's voice came out garbled and intelligible, but it was a definite response, meaning he was at least a little alert. You couldn't be dying if you were alert, right? _Right_? Oh god, what were you supposed to do if someone was in a state like this!? Howard had heard once as a boy that you should stick a person in water, but wasn't entirely certain that was right. Aw hell, he was willing to try anything!

Howard picked Vince up and ran into the bathroom, knocking Vince's legs hard against the doorframe. This brought another string of sounds and half-words from the kid, but Howard made no attempt to translate them as he stepped into the shower. He didn't bother with their clothes, just sat cross-legged on the tiles and situated the boy before reaching up to turn the taps.

The hot water wasn't working, again. Freezing water drenched them both, but Howard grit his teeth and ignored it, hauling up the kid's upper body and holding his face by his chin.

"Vince! I need you to open your eyes. Please! Say something, tell me what's wrong!"

That's when Howard finally noticed it. Blood. Small flecks of blood along the front and right side of Vince's pale blue shirt. Howard yanked the top up and over the child so quickly he heard it rip. Vince would kill him for that later.

He looked up and down Vince's stomach and chest, and when he failed to see a wound he ran his hand along the kid's torso, as if his eyes were not to be trusted. Nothing. No cuts or bruises. Howard even checked along the teen's back. It wasn't Vince's blood.

Vince shivered in the cold, and opened his eyes, looking up at Howard with more awareness than last time. Howard felt relief kick him in the stomach so hard his voice came out in a hoarse squeak when he tried to call Vince's name. Vince did the talking for him.

"Howard?...where...um, what 'm I doing..."

His words trailed off in a string of noises, and Howard waited for him to finish before talking in a level voice, gripping Vince by the head and making certain the kid was looking him in the eye so he knew Vince was paying attention.

"Vince, you're in the shower; you're back home. How did you get back here? Where's Naboo? What happened?"

Vince didn't answer. His eyebrows drew together and he looked about him. Silence stretched out for a long minute, and then the boy met Howard's gaze again, his voice low and even.

"This is the second damn time you've put me in the shower."

Howard could've laughed. He also could've cried. There he was. That was all Howard needed to know that his Vince was back. More or less safe and in his right mind once again. But he still hadn't answered Howard's questions. Well, first things first.

"Can you stand?"

"Um, I think so..."

Howard pulled Vince up slowly and stood them both in the small shower, barely enough space for the two of them. He very slowly removed his arms from around the kid, and observed him for signs of collapse. But Vince stood on his own, even though he shivered and swayed pathetically, bringing his arms up to cross around his middle.

Howard turned off the water, and led Vince by the arm out of the still open shower door. Water was puddled on the floor, and Howard made careful not to let Vince slip as they walked. The older man led them back to their dressers, trying not to step on any of Vince's fallen things. The kid looked down on all of them as if wondering who on earth had spilled his stuff, and Howard gestured down at the tackle box.

"I found you...down there, on the floor."

"Oh..."

All restraints and idiosyncrasies on hold, Howard began peeling off his soaked-through clothing. He heard Vince doing the same, and both got dressed into warm clothes in silence. Howard donned a clean pair of pajamas, while Vince wore his customary top and pants.

Vince made to walk toward their beds, but Howard put a hand on his shoulder and directed him to sit on the couch. As Howard went to sit down as well, a glint caught his eye, and looking toward the door, he saw Vince's Keeper jacket hung up beside his own. Now Howard did laugh, although there wasn't much humor behind it.

"You collapse on the floor, go all dizzy on me, scare the living fuck out of me, and yet_ still _you remember to hang up your jacket when you come in the door! Vince, you're...there is no word for you."

Vince pulled a strange face, something between a smile, grimace, and glare. He settled for staring down at his hands as they messed with his shirt.

"Hey, look at me. Where's Naboo? Where did he take you, and _what happened_?"

Vince was silent for a moment, before looking up at Howard with eager eyes.

"Have I ever told you the story of The Little Christmas Toy?"

"No, Vince. No stories. Please tell me the truth, for once in your life!"

The kid's face fell, and he sighed long and slow, closing his eyes, and Howard felt a shock go through him when tears started making trails down the boy's cheeks. He looked again up at Howard, pleading. His voice was thick and wavering as he met Howard's brown eyes.

"It weren't Naboo's fault! I swear, honest! I...I actually haven't seen him for hours now. We lost track, in the club...Please don't fight with him. He tried to look out for me, told me not-..."

"Told you not to what? _Vince_."

Howard gave the kid a warning stare, but the boy only breathed in and out slowly, a tear escaping now and then. Howard got up and paced quickly across the floor, trying desperately to vent out his rage in some manner that didn't involve screaming at or striking the kid. Howard looked over at Vince, who was watching him, and he came to a complete halt. He knew that look. That was the face Vince got when he clammed up. Howard wasn't going to find out what happened tonight. He would probably never know. The kid wouldn't tell him.

The parallel between this and a night long ago in a hospital room had the floor pitching up slightly, and Howard felt he needed to lie down.

The man turned and silently got into his bed, lying down on his right side so as not to have to see the kid. Vince remained on the couch long enough for Howard to start slipping off into sleep, before he was once again jerked awake by a small noise.

The floorboards creaked with the kid's steps as Vince padded toward their beds. He stood silently by Howard, who could feel his eyes on him. Eventually Howard couldn't take it any longer, and so looked up at Vince from over his shoulder.

"What is it?"

Vince had a completely lost and forlorn look in his eyes. He started slightly when Howard spoke, and visibly fumbled about for something to say.

"Um...nothing, nevermind."

He put a foot on the edge of Howard's bed and hoisted himself up, but before he could climb onto his own mattress, Howard grabbed his leg, stalling him.

"Hey, what is it? Come back down here, tell me. It's alright."

Vince lowered himself back to the floor, and directed his gaze somewhere around Howard's nose or chin, his words came out slowly, with almost three second's pause in between.

"Well, I just wanted to know if...if I could sleep in your bed, just for tonight."

The answer was on Howard's lips before he'd even fully registered the question.

"'Course you can, Little Man."

Vince didn't start crying again, nor did he smile at the nickname. He simply retained his blank expression as Howard scooted over to the wall and Vince climbed in underneath the duvet. Howard once again turned on his side, still fuming beyond words at this kid for hiding so much from him, but not able to turn him away when he clearly needed comfort. Even when he felt Vince press up against his back and drape an arm over Howard, his sharp cheekbone digging into Howard's shoulder as the boy cuddled up to him. Even with Howard's brain flashing red lights and screaming at him to move away, the tired man shut his mind down and let the kid curl up against him like a cat.

Howard had the mind to look at his wristwatch before sleep took him. The time read 4:54.

_Thank god it was Sunday_.

(Yeah I know Johnny Cash didn't perform Hurt in the 80s, but I really liked the image of Howard singing it as a teenager. As for the fiasco you just read, well, get used to it, cause Vince got himself into situations like that when he wasn't living with Howard, and is just going to keep doing it until Howard puts his foot down, so to speak. And the not telling, well, Vince has been doing that forever as well. Vince is basically living his life the way he did before living with Howard, and treating the man like he did his guardians. Howard's not fully realised what he's brought on himself by taking the kid in, and in the coming chapters will slowly come to grips with every unsavory aspect of Vince.)


	20. Chapter 20

chapter 20

It's amazing how quickly one can travel backward in their life. How one day you could be in a hospital room, ready to murder some man you don't know for harming a child you're not even related to, and then being alone and on your own with no one to care for you and no one to care for, to one afternoon finding yourself making an attempt on the life of a so-called shaman, barely held back by a puny, ragged teenager, whom you are not related to and have no true obligation toward, but are determined to keep safe, even if it means shoving them violently to the side and chasing the goddamn shaman to his little kiosk.

Howard Moon reached the small wooden kiosk by the time Naboo locked the door and closed his window. That didn't stop Howard from pounding on the fake camel, shouting all sorts of murderous promises and threats, all the while Vince was clinging to his back, gripping his shirt and pulling hard enough to cause the seams to stretch and tear.

"YOU LEFT HIM ALONE! YOU LEFT A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD KID ALONE IN A BLOODY FUCKIN' PUB!"

"Howard it wasn't like that, please calm down!"

Howard was beyond seeing red. He ignored the kid and tried to beat down the walls of the kiosk, determined to get in there and stuff each and every knick knack of Naboo's down his throat. Vince looked haggard and utterly exhausted, but he held tight to the taller man and pulled him away from the kiosk with surprising strength.

* * *

It had all started when Vince and Howard woke up that Sunday, almost exactly at the same time, around noon. Howard had been terribly worried over Vince, who looked paler than usual and seemed to shake and wobble all over as he stood and rushed to the toilet to puke.

Once he'd finished, groaning and sticking his head under the sink to rinse his mouth out, Howard gently pulled him to the couch once more and _very nicely_ demanded that Vince tell him at least a little bit of what went on last night that put him in such a state. The kid had stared long and hard up at Howard before sighing and reluctantly telling Howard about how he had met Naboo's mates, a load of great people that called themselves the Board of Shaman. He smiled as he told Howard about how they went around helping people and going on adventures. Howard snorted derisively, which erased the smile from Vince's face.

After a moment more the boy finally revealed that Naboo and the others had passed around strange little tablets that they all slipped onto their tongues. Naboo had offered Vince one, assuring him that he didn't _have_ to take it. Vince got quite shame-faced at this part in the story, admitting to how he didn't want to be the only person not taking one, and...perhaps, just perhaps, he had wanted to try it out.

"From then on it was a bit of a blur...and, I don't know, one minute I saw Naboo chattin' it up, the next...he was just gone."

Vince refused to tell any more, and so Howard had gone off on him, pacing around the room, stopping every so often to stand over Vince and gesture wildly like a deluded mime. Vince's eyes were glued to the floor, his hands gripping each other in his lap, twitching slightly every now and again. Eventually words came to Howard, and he began shouting loudly, not caring if anyone heard, words stuttered and intelligible at first.

"...S-so what, because a bunch of strangers are passing around drugs you go ahead and take one from people you _don't even know, Vince_!? Taking drugs is not something _responsible adults _do Vince. Where the hell've you ever seen normal people doing that shit?"

Here was the only time Vince looked back up at him, with a sardonic expression that made Howard realise how stupid that last sentence was. Of course the kid had grown up seeing people taking all kinds of substances. Hell, it was probably quite normal to him. Howard wilted slightly, and then tore off out the door, Vince following a second behind.

Even with the zoo closed, staff still had to show up in order to care for the animals, and though Naboo didn't have any charges to feed like the keepers, he still liked to come and lounge about the zoo grounds, chatting with the others and occasionally letting in 'friends', who all only stayed about an hour before scittering away back out the gates.

Sure enough, Naboo was standing in the middle of the zoo, talking with a keeper, when Howard stormed around the corner. He didn't pay the other man any mind, just looked Naboo right in the face, raising a hand to point aggressively at him.

"You! You absolute fucking tosser! I don't _ever _want you coming near Vince again!"

Vince stood beside Howard, out of breath and laying a shaky hand on Howard's arm, only to have it shoved off. Naboo glared back at the taller man, his voice coming out defensive and sharp.

"Oh step off, Moon, he's a big boy. He can choose who he hangs out wiv and what he does wiv his life!"

"Not when it involves meeting up with shady characters I don't even know and_ taking drugs_,_ you unbelievable pillock_!"

"Look, 'm not havin' this argument wiv you if you're jus' gonna insult me."

With that the shorter man turned and began calmly walking to his kiosk. He got a few metres away before Howard got over his stunned silence and exclaimed in a roar just_ exactly how _he was going to make certain Naboo never had anything to do with Vince again. This caused Naboo to hasten his steps, as well as Vince to stop in his own tracks behind Howard.

The next thing Howard knew he was beating his fists heavily against the walls of the kiosk, not even aware of what he was shouting anymore. He'd never in his life felt so angry; he was honestly getting quite afraid that he wouldn't snap out of it. Distantly he felt the wind cause pieces of his shirt, which Vince had torn, to flap about. He also realised the boy had somehow wedged himself between Howard and the building wall, as if to push the taller man away. The kid was doing a shit job of it, and underneath his own shouts Howard could hear Vince yelling all kinds of excuses and pleads for Howard to back off. If only Howard could stop screaming.

"YOU PRESSURED HIM INTO TAKING DRUGS AND THEN YOU LEFT HIM ALONE AMONGST STRANGERS AND GOD-KNOWS-WHAT! I'M GOING TO HANG YOU BY YOUR TURBAN FABRIC, NABOO!"

Eventually, Howard stopped pounding away on the door and window of Naboo's hideout, his hands sore and red. The fact that his shirt was ruined finally clicked home in Howard's brain, setting off more sparks of fury. This was one of his nicest shirts; of course it bleeding well was! Everything that was nice and good had gone to shit! With no tiny mystic to lay his hands on, Howard's eyes landed on the boy who was still mashed up between himself and the wall. Howard quickly took a step back, and the boy leaned slightly forward, not looking up at the man who was still very much enraged. Howard's knuckles stung sharply as his hands flew about in mad gestures, kicking off and letting loose once again on the kid. Howard hadn't even known his voice could _reach_ that high a pitch. There were points where no words even came out, just scratchy breaths, but still the man carried on.

"...HOW COULD YOU BE **SO STUPID**, VINCE? I MEAN SERIOUSLY! DO YOU WANT ME TO DEVELOP GREY HAIRS BEFORE MY TIME!? I'M TWENTY-FUCKING-FIVE, VINCE, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF A ZOO SCREAMING AT A TEENAGER FOR PILL-POPPING UNTIL I'M AT LEAST FORTY! WHY WON'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! **WHY**!? YOU ALWAYS have to..."

Howard's voice faltered hoarsely. Vince was sitting on the ground, leaning against the kiosk wall. When had he got like that? The man crouched down to get a view of the boy's face, which was hidden by his hair. Vince didn't respond beyond pitching forward and covering the knees of Howard's trousers in stomach bile. Howard grimaced, trying not to be sick himself, and simply grabbed Vince up, placing one arm around his back and the other under his knees, carrying him back to the hut. Naboo was quite forgotten, for now.

Slamming the door shut with his foot, Howard rushed Vince to their beds, laying him down on the bottom one.

"Here, you need to rest some more. Are you still feeling nauseous?"

"No, no I'm alright. Sorry."

Vince's eyes remained closed and he shivered slightly, face pale. Howard put the back of his hand over Vince's forehead. No fever, but he was sweating quite a bit. Howard nudged him to get his attention, speaking in a quiet voice, rage completely on hold.

"Hey, Little Man, could you tell me why you're feeling this way? Did you take anything else beside the one tablet? How much did you have to drink? Vince?"

"...I don't remember..."

That was all the boy offered as he moaned and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into Howard's pillow. Howard sighed. His knees felt cold. Oh, right. The older man draped his duvet over the boy before finding a clean pair of jeans and changed in the bathroom. That's when he discovered his knuckles were bleeding. Feeling more than a bit shaky himself, from his earlier display of no self-control, Howard cleaned his hands repeatedly in the sink. When he came back Vince was on his side, curled up into a tight ball, clutching Howard's blankets and breathing evenly.

Howard brushed the boy's fringe from his eyes, went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and finally sat down with a plop on the couch to watch television. His skin still buzzed with his rage, shifting slowly beneath his skin like lava under molten rock. But his worry over the kid kept it from breaching the surface once more, and eventually Howard's own breathing slowed to a normal rate.

He allowed himself a few minute's peace with a warm cup of tea before heading out the Lodge door to quickly complete his day's tasks as well as the kid's, finishing in record time.

* * *

Light flakes of snow fell over the night sky as Howard stood in the shower, completely lost in thought. He felt so utterly done with everything that had transpired this past Sunday. Well, in just a few more hours it'll be Monday, and he'll put this whole thing behind him. The kid will never tell him all the things Howard wants to know, and killing Naboo would just result in his incarceration, so what was the point?

Suddenly there was a sound, coming from outside the bathroom. Howard instantly recognised it as Vince's voice, singing very softly. Howard immediately turned off the water taps in order to better listen.

"_Hello little deer come home and stay_..."

Dripping water along the floor, Howard wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door, coming to stand in the main room. Vince was now lying on his back, duvet thrown off, and was waving his arms slowly through the air, as if to some phantom rhythm or music that Howard couldn't hear.

"..._Hello little deer come home and play with me_..."

His eyes drifted down to Howard, and he grinned, continuing his song as Howard moved slowly to the dresser to retrieve his pajamas he'd forgotten to bring into the bathroom with him.

"..._Hello little deer, I know this is wrong. Now it is dark, and the people have gone. I must try and trick you into getting in the boot of my car_..."

A bit worried about the boy's current state of mind, Howard pulled on his bottoms up through the towel, not wanting to take his eyes off the kid. But Vince didn't continue singing. Instead, he hopped off the bed and moved toward his own dresser, digging about through the bottom drawer, before pulling out a small yellow keyboard. Howard was too surprised to say anything, and so just stood there as Vince moved to the sofa, playing a tune to match his strange and unnerving song.

"..._Put on these corduroy slacks for me, you'll look better in the shorts I've ordered, you'll see. I'll integrate you in my society_..."

Finally Howard had the mind to drop his towel, now fully clothed, and walked silently over to join Vince on the couch. Vince smiled up at him as he sang, voice rising slightly in volume.

"_Now little deer you're alone with me; let's hope it's only sexually. I can't get involved with you emotionally_."

Howard's brow drew downward. He was really worrying now for the boy's mental state of mind, and almost reached forward to check his forehead once again.

"_Now that you're not a little baby deer; now that you've grown up, brutish and queer, get into my boot you stinking dirty whore_!"

Vince shouted these last three words, punctuating them with finger smashes on the keyboard. Howard leant slightly away from him, as Vince grinned manically over at Howard. He slid sideways on the couch, eyes wide and slightly red around the edges. Howard found himself frozen, as the kid grinned wider and wider, his face coming closer and closer to Howard. Finally, the boy was right up against Howard, and all the paniced man could see were his teeth and crazed gaze.

Suddenly, Vince backed off to his end of the couch, and it took Howard a moment to realise he was laughing loudly. He threw the keyboard down on the space between them, gesturing at Howard and continuing to laugh.

"You should see yourself! Oh my god, Howard, you look like you thought I was gonna eat your face or somethin'!"

Howard wasn't sure how to respond. Vince hadn't snapped; he was playing a joke on Howard. The older man had honestly thought Vince had lost it.

"...We-well what was with the creepy song?"

"I made that thing up when I was little, Howard. Long before I ever met you. Just thought I'd sing somethin', the quiet was suffocatin' me."

Howard huffed, swatting the kid on the arm, which caused Vince to burst out laughing all over again.

"Well you didn't have to freak me out like that, yeah?"

"Alright, alright, sorry. Let's just say we're even now."

"Even? Even for what?"

Vince just continued smiling, picking up his keyboard and motioning for Howard to go retrieve his acoustic. Once the two of them were sat down, Vince got that look in his eye, and began playing nonsensical tunes, keys often not flowing. Howard didn't bother trying to play along, simply sat back and watched the kid.

After a few minutes, Vince looked up at Howard. The man noted that his skin was still too pale, and his eyes were indeed red. His fingers quivered and stuttered slightly on the keys; but he looked awake and aware, and not completely wrecked, like earlier.

"Let's make up a song together, alright? We'll have to make up a person to go with it; um...Give us a character, Howard. Anyone, just name 'em."

Howard fumbled about in his mind, spitting out a name before he'd even fully registered it, shivering a bit in the cold winter air, his hair still damp.

"Tony...Ice."

"Tony Ice! I like 'im. Tony Ice, the traveling hobo..."

"Wait what? Why's he have to be a hobo? Why can't he be a- a traveling archeologist, or something."

Vince tilted his head toward Howard, smile still in place, and began singing, fingers moving up and down the keyboard in a simple little tune.

"_They call me Tony Ice, and I'm a travelin' hobo_! C'mon, you do the rest, Howard."

Howard was still stuck on the hobo versus archeologist argument, but gave in with a smile of his own. It was only a song. He suddenly noticed the full moon through their back window. Vince, noting the older man's diverted attention, followed his gaze. He instantly pulled a face.

"Aw, Howard, don't. I hate the moon! He's always so creepy."

Howard's smile spread into a grin as he begun playing a tune of his own, matching Vince's.

"_Oh yeah! I never worry, I never care. Just look on up, you know he's there_!"

Vince was now slumped over the arm of the sofa, still playing his notes but looking like it pained him to do so. He dramatically groaned up at Howard. The man only strummed his strings louder, calling over to Vince in a sing-song voice.

"Come on, Vince, you're turn. Sing about the moon. Let me hear ya!"

Vince sat straight, gave Howard a death glare, and continued.

"_Alabaster moon, won't you shine your filthy face down on me_-"

"Woah woah, you can't call the moon's face filthy! Say, I don't know...say...say 'milky face', instead. C'mon!"

Vince pulled theatrical expressions as he sang the line once more.

"_Alabaster moon won't you shine your milky face down on me_?"

"There we go!"

"Alright, you win, no more moon songs, please."

Howard laughed quietly as they ended the song, fingers gliding to a halt. Vince tried to act angry, but was laughing quietly as well, slouching down as if exhausted, and Howard would've thought it another part of his act if the kid hadn't immediately yawned widely. Howard stood up, leaning his guitar against the couch, and plucked the kid's own instrument out of his hands and laid it on the cushions.

"Alright, Vince, it's getting late. We should go to sleep."

The kid must've still felt really out of it, because he didn't put up the slightest resistance, simply rose on unsteady feet and headed for the beds. Howard nervously trailed behind him, ready to catch the stumbling teen should he fall again. Vince made it to the beds on his own, though, peeling off his jeans and throwing them across the room before climbing up into his nest of pillows and blankets.

Howard lay down in his own bed, pulling the duvet over him. The incredible seesaw of emotional highs and lows today had gotten the better of him as well, and he was out before he could check his alarm clock.

(Ah yes, angry Howard strikes again. Vince is often painted as the 'crazy' one, especially in the tv series, but Howard's not infallible. The concept of his rage trouble is brought up subtly throughout The Mighty Boosh, and so of course I decided to put a spotlight on it. Please review, it makes me write faster!)


	21. Chapter 21

KILIYOURFACE: Okay, a combination of bad internet connection and writer's block have caused this to be quite late, and for that I'm sorry :( to those of you who actually read this thing...what, like six? I'm sorry for making you wait, especially since the last chapters were so...dramatic. And I'm not even happy with this one, it's far too short :( ah well, I think the block is leaving me, so I'll try very hard to be on time next week.

chapter 21

Monday morning found all of the zoo staff once again crammed inside the tiny office of Bob Fossil. Luckily, this time Howard and Vince weren't the last ones to arrive and so stood in a corner, and Vince was able to actually see the blue-shirted man this time. The din quieted down when Fossil stood up on his chair and began shouting.

"Alright alright, shut it everybody! Now, as you all know, it's been approximately three weeks since our beloved marmosets vanished from this zoo. They have yet to be recovered. However, we have also failed to catch the criminal behind it, and no other animals have disappeared. So, since it's getting expensive to pay you each extra for night duty, I am hereby cancelling it-"

The rest of Fossil's sentence was drowned out by the staff collectively cheering and raising their arms up in the air. A few even hugged. Hey, the nights were getting pretty damn cold. If Howard weren't so angry with him, he'd feel quite sorry for Graham.

Vince, who stood behind Howard, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and the man could feel his grin boring through his back. Vince had only had one shift the entire three weeks. Howard had had four. He could tell the kid was feeling quite victorious with getting away with only one, and Howard enjoyed a little mental image of locking the kid out of the Lodge at night in just his vest and pants.

* * *

Returning from the market and swinging by the main office building in order to check for mail, Howard forwent putting away his purchases for the moment and sat down on the sofa, shaking off remnants of snow and opening a letter with frozen fingers. It was from his mother. She used to send one every few days when Howard first moved away, but as the years passed the days between each letter stretched into weeks. Now she sent a long letter every Christmas, containing updates on her and the rest of his family's lives, and inquiries as to how he was faring. Howard also always sent back a reply. That was how it went. The letters also always contained a little happy Christmas card, as the festive holiday was only two days away. Howard and Vince had sat down and come to an agreement that they wouldn't buy each other anything this year, simply due to the fact that they didn't have the money. Still, Howard couldn't help but feel guilty for not being able to afford even a small gift for the kid. He still stood by his opinion that all children had to have presents on Christmas. It was just the way of things.

Howard looked over at the object of his musings, who was up on his top bunk, scribbling madly away in his little notebook. Probably another Charlie adventure. Howard had already read one, and shuddered to recall it. He internally vowed to keep far away from Vince's writings on Charlie. How a fictional bubblegum character could be so goddamn spooky, Howard wasn't sure. And Vince of course made it all the worse by trying to explain to Howard that Charlie was real, and had always been with them, from the very beginning. Howard had shot up off the sofa and angrily told Vince to stop it already. Vince had grinned up at the man and went on to tell Howard about how Charlie loved to watch him sleep at night. Howard wasn't sure if that last part was just the kid winding him up or not, but he didn't sleep well for a few nights after.

Noticing that Vince was nearing the last few pages in that tattered old notebook of his, Howard suddenly got an idea. It wouldn't by any means be a great gift, but it would be _something_.

* * *

The zoo was closed for Christmas day, leaving Howard free to sleep in that morning; or so he thought. A large thump sounded through Howard's sleep-fogged mind as he was pulled to consciousness by someone calling his name and moving about on his bed.

The tired man opened his eyes to the kid bouncing on the mattress beside him. Well, as much as one _can _bounce on a bunk bed. Once he saw Howard was awake, Vince broke into a wide grin, exclaiming a "Happy Christmas" as he grabbed Howard by the arm and pulled him into a sitting position.

Sleep now gone completely, the older man smiled up at Vince, who was now standing before him, shivering slightly in the cold air of the hut. Howard got up and walked to his dresser, where he'd stashed his secret present for Vince. He felt quite nervous, anticipating disappointment or aloofness from the boy toward his attempt at a gift.

Turning to the teen, who was watching him curiously, Howard held up a new, thick blank book. He had spent nearly his entire Sunday yesterday racing through market aisles, roving up and down the blank books and journals, until he found one he thought the boy would like. It was pink with little punk designs like skulls and guitars, done up in small sequins. It was for little girls, but it was the only one he thought would catch Vince's eye. After all, Howard had always assumed pink was Vince's favorite color, so he just stuck with it. The kid had never said otherwise.

Howard had also bought several pencils in neon patterns as well as a few biros. He did manage to stop himself from also buying markers, Tippex and more. Howard held up the gifts for Vince to see, waiting for his reaction, good or not.

Vince took a moment to just stare blankly at the presents, before moving quickly over to Howard with a wide smile. Taking the presents, he smiled down on them, shaking his head slightly as he set them down on the dresser top. He then turned to Howard with a slight look, smile now to one side of his mouth.

"Thought we agreed no presents, huh?"

"Well, I saw them...um, yesterday while I was out and thought you'd like them. And also, I noticed you were almost through your notebook. Thought you might like something a little more 'official' for writing, rather than an old school notebook."

Howard rambled on, and would have continued if Vince hadn't hugged him tightly, squeezing the last of his breath from his lungs. Stepping back, Vince gave him a half-smile again as he moved his new presents to sit with his clutter of other objects, speaking as he went.

"Well then, it's a good thing I went ahead and made a surprise gift for _you_. This way we're even."

"...What? You got a gift for me? Vince, you didn't have to do that, I'm twenty-five. And besides, I want you to save up your money-"

"Don't worry, then, cause this didn't cost me a penny. Now, if you don't like it, you don't have to do it, but...I got you another gig at that same place you sang at last time. What do you think?"

Howard _couldn't_ think. How could the kid expect him to go through that again!? He'd damn near had a heart attack the last time! He'd sweated so much the guitar was slipping from his grasp the entire performance! On the other hand...he'd felt so great. When that audience cheered as he finished, Howard had felt on top of the world. So many thoughts began crowding Howard's mind. The man desperately grabbed one to throw out as the seconds passed and Vince's expression began to fall at Howard's silence.

"What will I sing? I don't really know many songs..."

"You'll have time to learn new ones. Or even make one of your own. The gig's not for seven days now. It'll be on New Year's night. Cool, yeah?"

"Yeah...Vince, I...um, thank you. This is, um, very unexpected. But thank you. I...think I'll try to write my own song this time."

"Brilliant! I'll help."

With that, Vince picked up Howard's guitar and sat on the sofa, fingers strumming out small half-tunes, not really knowing what he was doing. Howard opted to sit on the other end of the couch and watch him for a minute as Vince first began humming and then singing another of his weird songs.

"_Monkey stole my face, took me down to another place_..."

Howard wanted to question the lyrics, but let the kid be as he seemed to get lost in his own words for a few minutes. They then got to work figuring out a proper song for Howard to sing at the gig. When hours passed with nothing to show aside from a few stray lines of poetry, Howard slumped down in his seat. He really wasn't good at this writing business. How the kid could make up lyrics on the spot so flawlessly was a mystery to the older man. Vince seemed to be thinking along a similar vein, by the way he was observing Howard. Suddenly, the boy sat forward, grin coming across his face once more.

"You should sing one of my songs at the gig! No, seriously, I don't mind. 'S not stealin' my songs if I give you permission, right?"

"Uh, Vince, I'm not sure if your songs are...the kind people would expect me to be singing-"

"Exactly! It'll shock 'em! Give you a reputation, and before you know it, you'll be gettin' calls for gigs all over the place!"

Howard closed his eyes, slouching down in his seat and heaving a heavy sigh through his nose. He tried to picture himself, up on stage like before, singing not a refined, soulful song like those of Mr Cash, but rather some backward mix conjured up by this pixie of a person perched next to him. Surprisingly, it wasn't so bad. After all, Vince was right. He needed an image; one that would put him apart from the rest. The worst that could happen would be him getting booed off stage. Swallowing thickly at that thought, Howard mentally smacked himself, internally berating himself to for once take a risk! Take a page out of Noir's book, and maybe, just maybe, he _could_ become famous. That thought had quite a ring to it. Opening his eyes, Howard looked over to where Vince was tearing the skin off of his lip with his teeth, staring off at a far wall.

"Alright. Fine, I'll do it."

This got the kid's attention once more. Eyes meeting, Vince sat up straighter in his seat and grinned.

"Yes! You won't regret this, Howard, I promise."

"Yeah well we'll see."

"Now c'mon, let's get practicin' them lines! How 'bout we use my monkey song this time. I know all the words, of course, it bein' me own song an' all, but you'll have to create a tune to go with it."

The two spent the entire day reciting Vince's lyrics over and over until Howard felt quite mad. Still, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed himself, singing into the night hours as the kid enveloped them in his little world of music and colors and face-stealing monkeys.


	22. Chapter 22

HAPPYHOLIDAYS: Got this done just a few minutes ago :D Your reviews make me feel happy inside, especially those pertaining to imagery and little hidden meanings they picked up on :) cause I litter this story with a _lot_ of that stuff. Here ya go! Tried to make it happy and bright for the festivities!

chapter 22

Howard currently stood in the zoo centre, one hand clamped down over Vince's mouth, and the other waving off the surrounding keepers with a nervous smile. They just shook their heads and moved on with their lunch hours. When Howard was certain they had tuned him and the kid out, Howard finally released the boy, who whipped around to stare up at him, eyes huge.

"What was that for!?"

"What was _that _for? I never asked you to go and invite the entire staff to my performance!"

"Oh come on, Howard! You're always complainin' about how no one in this zoo ever gives you the time of day. Here's your chance to get some recognition!"

Howard didn't have a counter-argument for that. It was silly, but he didn't want anyone he knew personally, and had to encounter every day, to see him up on stage singing. It was an old insecurity, this not wanting to put himself out on a limb, for fear of being judged, but it was just one of Howard's foibles he'd never been able to shake off over the years.

Vince looked guilty now at Howard's obvious discomfort, and made to allay some of his friend's worry. He shrugged loosely, gesturing at the backs of a few retreating keepers.

"Well, you shouldn't worry too much. None of them seemed too enthusiastic. Doubt any of them will even show up...sorry, Howard. Guess I should've asked before shouting out to everyone about your gig."

"That's alright, Little Man."

Howard shrugged off his earlier panic with a pat on Vince's shoulder. Looking to his wristwatch, he realised that they only had four minutes left to their free time. Best get an early start. Saying so to Vince, who shook his head at Howard, the man went off toward his assigned post, the aviary. Looking back, he observed Vince from a distance for a few moments, sitting on their bench and listing to Fossil dance around in his office to some pop band. Howard then went about the rest of his day, trying very hard not to let his mind wander to his new gig, which would be in only three days now.

The rest of the day passed in relative quiet, except for Vince's little "dress-up" stunt he tried to pull with the lion. Poor old cat didn't know _what_ was happening, and Vince was just lucky the animal had no teeth anymore. Still, Howard was internally grateful for the distraction from his entangling thoughts. Externally, he was dragging Vince from the lion's exhibit by the arm.

* * *

An unexpected knock at the Lodge door brought Howard's eyes from the television. Vince also looked up from his coveted new book, which he was currently scribbling in with a neon green pencil.

Getting up, Howard walked toward the door, opening it to reveal Joey Moose. The man leant on the doorframe, offering Howard an easy smile.

"Hey Moon, what say you and me head on to the pub? Get some drinks, yeah? It's been a while."

It had been a while. _Quite _a while, in fact. Weeks had gone by since Howard and Moose went out to their usual pub together. Funny, Howard honestly hadn't even thought about going out at night like he used to. Not since he had a reason to stay in. Howard glanced toward where Vince sat, cross-legged on Howard's bed. The boy looked on between the two men in silence. Howard turned back to Moose, offering him an apologetic smile and shrug.

"Sorry, Joey, but I think I'll just stay in tonight..."

Moose's smile became a bit sadder, and Howard couldn't help but feel guilty for his once-drinking buddy. The man stood straight and began stepping away, nodding slightly.

"Alright, then, mate. I get ya. See you around."

He walked off into the night, toward the zoo gates, and Howard closed and re-latched the door. He made his slow way back to sit down on the couch, glancing over to Vince, who in turn watched him for a few minutes before going back to his writing, pencil now moving slower than before. Abruptly the boy whipped his head up to look across the room at Howard, and the man braced himself for some kind of question pertaining to Moose or why he didn't go out for drinks like he used to.

"Why're you growin' whiskers out, Howard?"

Well that was unexpected. It took the man a moment to reply, brows drawn in confusion.

"W-well, I've actually been thinking about growing a mustache. Think it'd look quite nice-"

"More like gross! Shave that thing off 'fore it gets worse, Howard."

The older man sighed and gave Vince a reproachful look, which the boy combated with a stare of his own, eyebrows raising. Why did the kid always have to take issue with the strangest things! Besides, a mustache was sure to make him appear older and more mature, and now that he knew he was to be up on a stage singing a crazy song created from the brain of a child, well, perhaps a mustache would show that he wanted to be taken seriously. Nooka had had a mustache, after all; and used to carry on and on about how it was a dignified symbol of manhood. The boy wouldn't understand all that, though. He was just a boy. Best to give him a simple answer.

"I'm not shaving it off, Vince."

"Well I will! Just you wait-"

"If I wake up to find it gone, I'll come at you like a buzzard, you got it?"

Now it was the kid's turn to sigh heavily, and lower his head back to his writing, leaving Howard in blissful silence for a few hours before the man decided it was time to sleep.

* * *

Howard stood stiffly in the Keeper Lodge as Vince circled around him, adjusting here and inspecting there. Howard wasn't entirely certain how Vince asking him what he planned on wearing to the gig resulted in nearly two hours of Vince rooting around through Howard's old clothes; the ones he hardly ever wore anymore. The teenager grinned widely as Howard watched the cogs and wheels move at an accelerated speed within his head.

Finally, Vince stopped prowling about his person, coming to stand in front if Howard, who let out the breath he'd been holding in. Vince's expression held approval, which boosted the older man's confidence quite a bit. Vince looked at him, smirk playing up the side of his face, but his eyes held a more genuine smile.

"My my my, you're gonna look _sharp_ tonight! With this outfit and my song, you're sure to get his attention!"

Howard smiled back down at the boy, before what he said fully registered.

"Wait what? Him? Who's him?"

"Oh? Didn't I tell you? Yeah, the head of Pieface Records is gonna be there."

Vince's tone as well as the way he walked away from Howard to the other side of the room told Howard that the boy had been keeping this secret from him on purpose, and for good reason. All of Howard's self-confidence crawled into the cracks in the wooden walls as he felt himself deflate like a leathery balloon.

"Oh god. Vince I can't do this!"

"Yes you can-"

"No I can't! You never said the head of a record company was gonna be there!"

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference!"

Vince sighed and looked up at Howard, hands on his hips in an exasperated manner that made Howard feel ten. Vince _did _have a point. Howard would've just done the show the same whether he knew the head of whatever record thing was there or not. Howard sat down on the couch, checking the time and noting that they had about fifty minutes before they had to be there.

The walk there took an agonising eternity, Vince all the while fluttering around him in circles as they moved down the pavement, throwing compliments and reassurances at the older man every second, his breath steaming visibly around them both like fog. Howard knew the kid was only trying to help him, but his voice grated on Howard's brain and eventually he had grabbed the kid mid-circle and, as gently as he could, told him to shut up.

* * *

Howard once again felt that amazing rush as he sat on stage, singing for all he was worth, trying not to think about how weird the song itself was or the crowd watching him, lest he dry-heave like he did about ten minutes ago in the toilets. He was honestly very grateful to Vince; not just for standing over him as he spat up bile, hands moving in soothing circle over his back. No, he was grateful that the boy had so much faith in him and his talents that he got him into gigs like this. He pretty much forced Howard to realise his potential, and as soon as Howard had stopped kicking and screaming, so to speak, he'd felt nothing but gratitude.

Before Howard wanted it to, the song was coming to an end. This time, however, Howard let his instincts overtake him, and instead of slowing the tune to a stop, he simply played on. He no longer sang; the lyrics were over, but Howard fingers glided over the guitar as he improvised a tune that carried on for a few more minutes before the man got ahold of himself. Howard reluctantly closed his song off, and relinquished the stage to the next talent scheduled for that night.

Vince waited for him this time at a table they'd gotten just before Howard went on. His face seemed to be a cross between surprised and amazed. He leant up on his elbows the instant Howard sat down across from him.

"What was that!?"

"Um...improv?"

Now that Howard was off the stage, it was like a switch had been flipped. Now he stared down at his hands, self-consciousness keeping him from daring to look up at the surrounding people who he felt were watching him. They had to be. Argh, he had done horribly! He knew he should've just made up his own damn song!

"That was amazin', Howard! I mean, it was a little jazzy for my tastes but-"

"Oh who are you kidding, I was awful-"

"C'mon Howard, stop beatin' yourself up and just be happy. You did great!"

Howard smiled across at the kid as a waitress came over. Howard once again let the boy order an alcoholic beverage, but on the condition that he only have three at the most. Vince looked at him like he was a lunatic, but conceded. Howard himself just ordered water. Drinks were expensive and he needed to save up his money. A certain fifteen-year-old had a birthday coming up in the next week and Howard was planning on a frantic scouring of the town next time he went for groceries.

When Vince was into his second drink a man came up to their table. He was smartly dressed, and Vince instantly put his glass down, signaling to Howard as he talked.

"Howard, this is the head of Pieface Records-"

"Please, call me Arthur."

The man smiled politely as he stepped around Vince's chair and shook hands with Howard, who didn't trust his voice and so just smiled silently.

"Your performance this evening was rather impressive. Your musical skills are rather excellent, and the lyrics are so...strange. But that's what's popular these days, isn't it; an air of oddness. I like you sir, what's your name?"

"Uh, Moon, Howard Moon."

"I like you, Howard. I'll definitely be keeping my eye on you in the future."

With that, the man walked back to wherever he had come from in the dimly lit room. Howard was too busy seeing stars to really pay much mind to anything for the rest of their time in the restaurant to halfway home, finally coming back to himself as he crossed the road with Vince ahead of him. The boy seemed lost in his own musings, and Howard left him to it, continuing the walk home in mutual silence.

* * *

Vince hadn't needed to plan Howard's next performance. Turns out the little brat had given out Howard's number to various places, and the man received a call one afternoon not even two days after his last gig. If he were a freer soul he would've danced. Vince clapped him on the back, singing his praises with a wide grin and a 'you see?' look on his face.

The next day, as he and Vince sat around eating their lunch, Mrs. Gideon walked by, and Howard had did the unthinkable. Before he could talk himself out of it, he was asking her to come to his performance. She had smiled brightly and agreed to meet him there. Howard had glowed the rest of the evening, only _just _remembering at the last minute that he was to search out a present for the kid. Thank god Vince always opted out of grocery shopping with him, claiming that he'd die of boredom.

Vince had planned a large party in the Lodge, but it would have to be a few days off from his actual birthday, as they had to wait until the weekend, since Vince told them all they could stay the night; and without even asking Howard first! Honestly, it would've been alright with Howard, if his gig hadn't been planned on the very same night. He wasn't sure if Vince did it on purpose or if it was simply bad timing. Either way, he quickly laid down some ground rules as the kid rolled his eyes and assured the man that it would only be his friends from school.

That's what Howard was worried about.

* * *

Vince, Howard and Leroy gathered around on the floor, Howard's large duvet cast underneath them. They were each digging into a small cake Leroy had brought with him, which Howard was very relieved for, as he honestly couldn't afford to buy one himself.

Howard was quite proud of his final choice as a present for Vince. He'd spotted it through a shop window. It was a pure white cowboy hat with a simple silver ribbon sewed around it, and Vince had literally tackled Howard to the floor when he'd revealed it. It wasn't by any means as expensive as Leroy's gift, but Vince currently wore it atop his head proudly, as though it were a crown, and that was all the man cared about.

Speaking of, Leroy's gift was a new video recorder. He'd even bought a few tapes for Vince to fill up, which he surely would within the month, at least. Howard held it up now, fitting a cassette in and trying to figure out how the damnable thing worked.

"Is it on? I can't tell."

"It's on, mate, see the red light? That means it's recording."

Howard, who'd been holding the recorder on Leroy while he'd talked, now swiveled it to face Vince, who sat with his knees tucked under him and a mouth full of cake. Howard smiled at the kid as Vince gave him a dirty look for filming him while he was eating.

"So, how old are we today, Vince?"

Howard hated that question. His mother used to ask him that every freaking year, and for some reason it always irked him. It just felt patronising somehow, as though he were three years old and didn't have the mind to know his own age. Nonetheless, he found himself uttering the same dreaded sentence to the boy before him, who hardly paused in his savage eating of the cake. Some things don't change with age, it seemed.

"I'm sixteen years old."

A bit of cake fell from his mouth, and he scrambled to scoop it up and back into his mouth, causing Howard to grimace and Leroy to laugh, smacking Vince's arm when he stuck up two of his fingers at him. Howard hadn't been so sure of Leroy when he'd first met him, but after spending the night talking casually with him as they lay down the duvet and had Vince close his eyes as they brought out the cake, Howard thought that the young man was alright. Hey, Vince could've done a _lot_ worse in choosing a best friend. Howard smiled at Vince from behind the camera Vince, throwing another question out there for lack of anything else to say.

"So, you'll be driving by next year; should start practicing now. You know, I can teach you. We'll have to borrow Leroy's car, if that's alright with him. It'd have to be a scheduled thing. Maybe you can come over for a weekend an-"

Howard had begun talking with Leroy toward the end there, and the young man had been nodding back at Howard as they readied to make plans for Vince's driving education. But before they could even start, the kid was sitting straight and talking over Howard.

"'M not driving."

Both men looked down at him, brows drawn in confusion. They spoke in unison.

"What?"

"Why?"

"_Because_, I just don't want to."

Howard shook his head at the kid. He couldn't be serious.

"Vince, everyone needs to at least_ know _how to drive. I mean, I'm not saying we're going to buy you a car any day soon, but some day you're going to need one to get around. I mean, who's going to drive you everywhere your whole life, a chauffeur?"

"_You _will."

Vince was no longer looking into the camera, which was still aimed on him. He looked past it and straight at Howard, with a completely serious expression. He seemed _so sure _of himself and the knowledge that Howard would drive him everywhere his entire life. Howard sighed, his tone coming out softly, trying to get the boy to see reason.

"I'm not going to be able to do that your _entire_ life, Vince. After all, I'm not going to live forever. You need to learn to care for _yourself_."

Vince ignored his last sentence; a small, still serious smile settling on his face.

"Of course you will, Howard."

Leroy had thankfully broken the silent static that was building in the air by asking for the recorder from Howard so he could film both he and Vince as they finished off the last of their cake in silence. Howard loved the kid dearly, but he really hoped Vince would start living in the real world sometime soon. He was growing far too old for this make-believe nonsense.

(You know what would make a fine present? Why, a review! haha only joking. not really. Have a great Christmas, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!)


	23. Chapter 23

(Yeah sorry for taking so long with uploading. I've more or less finished this fic, but the second one is giving me endless trouble. I now know how Peter Jackson felt when he had to make The Two Towers into a film. The middle half of a trilogy sucks to make. So I've been pretty down on myself because of this...and yeah, here's chapter 23. Things get heavy again; you know these two just can't live peacefully together for more than an hour. Enjoy.)

chapter 23

Howard could vaguely hear someone calling his name. Then, sharp pain blossomed across his cheek, and he was suddenly back in the hut, looking down on an alarmed Vince.

He and Leroy had gone out about town before his friend left, and Howard had opted to just stay in. After about ten minutes Howard felt quite strange in the silence that had once surrounded him in his many years alone in the Keeper Lodge. He'd put on a record, and before he knew it he was fading into a jazz trance, letting the music flow around him.

Howard now held one hand to his stinging cheek.

"What was that for!?"

"You weren't answerin' me! I thought you were havin' a spasm or something!"

"A spasm? _That_, Vince, was no spasm. _That_ is called being immersed in the notes, letting the juju take hold."

"Well it was creepy."

The boy shook his head at Howard, reaching over to turn off the record player.

"Do you mind, I was listening to that."

"I can't stand jazz, you know that! Put on the telly or somethin'."

It was Howard's turn to shake his head, going over to slump down on the sofa and fumble for the remote. He found it stuck between the cushions, along with a trail of shiny cloth and glitter, that stuck annoyingly to his hand. He sent a glare over at the kid, who was now planted on Howard's bed, writing in his book and eating candy that no doubt Leroy had bought for him before leaving.

"Vince, this is the third time. What did I say about leaving your things everywhere?"

"It's just some fabric! Throw it on the floor, I'll get it later."

"No you won't. You'll leave it there until _I_ get tired of stepping on it and put it away, just like I do with _all _your things, Vince."

Vince looked up, squinting his eyes and lowering his brow at Howard.

"Not _all _my stuff!"

"_Yes _all your stuff! I'm constantly putting your things back into that rusty old box of yours. And your clothes; _I_ pick them up off the floor and wash them _and_ put them away. Vince, you have to learn to do some things yourself, you know!"

Vince just mumbled under his breath, words that Howard was certain comprised mainly of curses, and went back to his writing and sweet-eating. Howard flicked through the channels, searching for something decent to watch. He concentrated on each channel, and on reigning in his temper. This kid was bad for his blood-pressure.

Soon Howard was calm once more, involved in a World War One documentary. He watched from the side of his vision as the boy got up from his bed, walking over to set his book and pencil on top of a dresser, where many of the boy's items lay cluttered on top of one another. Howard had exhausted his patience in the last few months, but this mess and disorganisation was really starting to make him itch.

The teen then fetched a fresh pair of pants and made his way to the shower, where he spent the customary forty minutes before emerging in a cloud of steam. He climbed up into his own bed and flopped onto his side, snoring within minutes.

It was nearly an hour later when Howard finally decided to shower and ready for bed. Upon lifting his duvet, he discovered several candy wrappers, which Vince had neglected to pick up. Huffing, Howard threw them into the bin and wiped any crumbs off his sheets. He really needed to become more strict with the teen. This doing-as-he-pleased shtick wasn't going to work. Howard had mostly turned a blind eye to the child's idiosyncrasies, just content to have them living together and enjoying eachother's company. But it was slowly becoming more difficult to simply put things out of mind, and Howard's short fuse was sparking now at nearly everything the boy did. Howard closed his eyes and tried very hard to quiet his mind and sleep, and soon slipped into blissful blackness.

* * *

Vince stood outside Bollo's cage, surrounded by his friends who'd arrived together not ten minutes ago. The sun was setting, and Howard had just walked up to them, dressed for his gig, which was in an hour. He looked skeptically at all of these young people, looking to be between the ages of fifteen and twenty-something. There were two girls and four guys. Howard noted with apprehension that Leroy was absent.

Howard _really_ didn't want to leave them alone for hours while he was out. He would've re-scheduled his performance, if he wasn't so afraid of angering the people giving him the spot at their establishment. It was quite a well-respected theatre house, where many live performances took place. But he had a _really_ bad feeling about this. The nervous man raised his voice over the idle chatter of the kids.

"Hey Vince, I thought you said you'd all be staying in the Lodge, yeah?"

Vince, who'd been talking animatedly with a short-haired girl, looked over at the older man, giving him a grin and a wave.

"We will, I swear! Just wanted everyone to meet Bollo...Hey! Why don't we go in an' say hello. I got a key to all the exhibits just last week-"

"Vince, non-keepers aren't allowed into the enclosures. You know that."

"Oh come off it, Howard. It'll be fun!"

Vince and the others made to go around the exhibit, toward the door. Howard took a step forward, putting all the authority he possessed into his stance and voice.

"_Vince_! You're not letting all these people in there. That exhibit isn't big enough to hold all of you; and besides, Bollo hates men."

Vince gave him a withering look, but set his jaw silently and stepped back toward the front of the cage. He stuck his hand through the bars, letting Bollo take hold of it, and talked to the ape in a low tone. Thankfully Howard didn't see anyone else put there hands in the pen, although he was now receiving veiled dirty looks from a few of the teenagers. Howard took that as his cue to head out. If any of those little buggers got their arm ripped off by a savage gorilla...well, it served them right.

* * *

Howard hadn't brought his guitar with him this time. He wasn't even going to sing at this performance. No, he had organised it all with the host over the phone. They had a lovely grande piano on their stage, and Howard had agreed to play a few songs on it. His mother had sent him to lessons when he was boy, and the skill had never left him. Howard honestly enjoyed playing the piano more than his acoustic sometimes; it was incredible relaxing. It felt less amateur and more refined. He'd planned on revealing his hidden talent to the kid at the performance, but then the little brat had went and organised his party for that same weekend. Ah, well...

Howard was by no means alone that night. He'd not only gotten the courage to invite Gideon to the show, but had asked Joey to come along as well. Half-way through his performance and into his fourth sonata, Howard looked out into the crowd of people, all seated at little tables, and spotted Gideon and Moose. He'd very nearly messed up a few notes, but held himself in check for the rest of the show, though his sweating increased ten-fold. He'd known Joey would show up; they _were _still good pals, if a bit distant. But Gideon...Gideon had _actually _come to his performance.

At the end of the show, Howard met his co-workers at their table, the building soon filling up with the soft voice of the woman now on stage. Both complimented him on his marvelous performance, Gideon patting him gently on the arm, and Howard was surprised his face didn't melt off, what with how hot it felt.

After several rounds of drinks and good times Howard realised how late the hour had grown, and tried to politely excuse himself. He'd told Vince he would be back by eleven, and he was already several minutes behind. As he rose, Gideon lay her hand over his, essentially freezing him in place.

"Please, the night is young. Can't we go out for dinner somewhere? Walk about town, perhaps?"

Her voice swam around in his head, turning his brain to mush as he grinned like a fool. Moose made to rise from the table, claiming a wish to turn in early and giving Howard a wink. Howard and Gideon left the theatre soon after, heading out into the brisk night air and talking amiably the entire time.

* * *

Howard floated through the zoo gates, not paying Graham any mind as he flashed his pass. He and Gideon had traversed the town for hours, stopping only once for tea in a little night cafe. They'd learned much about one another in that time. Howard had never known that Gideon could play the trumpet, and had her own private library in her house. It was two stories high, she had said. Howard had asked how she could afford such a library if she only worked in this run-down little zoo. She had smiled and revealed to Howard that she was in fact quite wealthy. Had inherited money from her dead parents.

Howard was confused, and his face must have shown it, because Gideon gave a slightly wry smile as she explained that the only reason she was a zookeeper was because of her passion for snakes. True, in the beginning she had joined because she was in love with the Zooniverse, and had a great respect for Tommy Nooka. But now...now she stayed on out of devotion to her beloved reptiles. Howard was awe-struck. This woman was fucking perfect.

Before he knew it they were all the way to her house, which was about two hour's walk from the zoo. She had offered him a ride back, but Howard had turned her down, stubborn pride springing into place.

As the cold wind nipped at his fingers, Howard fumbled around for his keys. Unlocking the front door, he stepped quietly into the hut, and was gobsmacked.

The entire place was in ruins! Vince's things lay everywhere, and all of the plates and crockery seemed to have been used and then stacked precariously in the sink. No people were to be seen amid the wreckage, and Howard took a tentative step forward, mouth open in shock. The dressers were all open, clothes strewn about, both his and Vinces'. Hell, even a few of Howard's records were lying about. And _dear sweet jesus_. The bunk bed was destroyed. The old wooden posts holding up the top bed were broken and splintered, the bottom bed buried underneath the rubble.

In a daze, Howard slowly bent down and began to pick everything up, cleaning the hut as best he could. His mind was at a standstill. He only vaguely wondered where the kid was.

* * *

Howard was currently stuffing all of his clothes back into his dresser, to be better organised later, when he heard someone fumble with the door latch. It opened to reveal Vince, who stood in the doorway, staring over at Howard silently with a blank face. Howard rose, and after some hesitation, walked closer to the boy. His bleary eyes and wobbly stance positively _screamed_ 'properly pissed', and Howard grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the couch, which had been cleared of debris and half-eaten food. He leaned in close to the kid, checking his eyes. He looked almost like he had that one day many weeks ago, when he'd given Howard the fright of his life. Only this time the boy wasn't hungover or ill. The little sod was still high as a kite, Howard could definitely tell.

Vince mutely watched Howard, face blank, as the man stood in front of him and gestured widely with his hands.

"Care to explain why my house is ruined?"

Vince looked around him as though realising where he was for the first time. He then opened his mouth, silence stretching on for a minute before he finally began to speak, voice quiet and scratchy.

"Oh. Um...things...kinda got out of hand."

"_Kinda got out of hand_? Vince my house is in shambles! What the hell were you lot up to!? God, I knew I never should've trusted you alone. With _friends_, no less! This is all you ever do, isn't it!?"

Howard was shouting, raising his arms in gesture, and Vince sat forward, anger written across his face as well, though what he said wasn't the retaliation or excuse Howard had expected.

"You were out all night. Did Gideon show up?"

Disarmed slightly, Howard nodded. Vince's voice was still gravelly, though now it seemed even more strained, as he sat back again, tilting his head up at Howard.

"So you were out with her, then? All night long...what'd you do that took all night long?"

Howard felt his anger flash. He didn't like the boy's tone, and he most certainly wasn't going to stand here, put on the spot by this kid! He was the one doing the interrogating! Howard gathered his wits and began questioning Vince once more.

"Vince, tell me what happened here. Our bed is ruined! Now where will we sleep, hmm? And it's going to take ages to completely clean this place. Where were you, anyway? I want you to tell me everything, Vince; the truth, or so help me..._answer me_!"

Howard leant sharply over the boy, expecting him to flinch like he usually did. Vince, however, only huffed heavily and looked about the room with dilated eyes, hands messing with his shirt.

"We just went out, alright? We got tired of bein' cooped up in 'ere-"

"After you destroyed the place, you mean."

Vince huffed again, closing his eyes and laying his head back, looking a bit sick all of a sudden. He was getting no sympathy off Howard today. The older man stood still, hands on his hips as he waited for the boy to begin talking again. Vince's bright eyes opened once more and his head lolled forward, looking up at Howard. His hands gestured messily as he talked.

"Well-look-...look, alright, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for everyone to go off their heads, but they did! Scott brought some drinks, and Jeff had these little tablet things. I didn't take one, but I drank _loads_ of that nasty shit Scott had. Before I knew what was happenin', we was all up on the top bunk, and...I don't know, it just _broke_. Diane was hurt, so we took her to A an' E then we all went out for some more drinks and a guy at the club had some stuff we took. We did tha', an' then I came home. They're all prob'ly a'heir hotel r'mbynow...See? Told you everythin'. Happy?"

The combined sarcastic tone Vince was pulling as well as his increasingly blurred speech had Howard's face doing that strange cynical thing where it's a cross between a grimace and an unhappy smile. Before he could voice another question, Vince was standing up unsteadily, causing Howard to step back a bit to make room.

"So what did you and Gideon get up to? Where'd you go?"

Howard's mind was once again turned to slush at the memory of his previously perfect night out with the woman of his dreams. The words were coming out of him without his consent, his mouth beyond his control.

"We just walked around the town and talked. Then we got some tea, and then I walked her back to her place-"

"Her place? _Ahhh_, I see...so'hat's it then. You were shaggin' 'er."

Howard felt a jolt of surprise, not only at the words but at Vince's change in expression and the way he tilted his head up at Howard in that manner that Howard was quickly learning meant nothing good. Howard didn't understand. _Why_ was the boy so adamant about bringing up his time with Gideon? And _why_ was he insinuating things he didn't know, and had no right to be asking! What was this rancor he seemed to hold for Gideon, anyway? He didn't even know the woman! Anger flaring back up again, Howard pointed down at the kid.

"What's the matter with you, Vince? I leave you on your own for one night and you've completely fucked everything up! My house is _ruined_, the bed that_ I _spent _my _money on is destroyed, and you keep questioning me about my night as if _I'm_ the one on trial! God, why must you always ruin things! That's it, starting now you are growing up fast, Little Man, you hear me!? If I ever see you out with those slimey little sods again I'll fly at you like a bullet! AND NO MORE DRUGS FOR FUCK'S SAKE! YOU'RE SIXTEEN!"

He was definitely waking the animals up with his shouting, but Howard was beyond caring. Vince's own voice came out as a scratchy yell as his face contorted into a rage that matched Howard's own.

"I said I was sorry, Howard! You were supposed to be home by eleven! But instead you go an' fuck that snake cunt-"

Howard slapped Vince hard across the face. He'd been wanting to do that since the little shit stepped through the door; hell, had wanted to for _weeks_, but had held back until now. Vince glared up at him, not bothering to feel the red mark on the left side of his face, his voice coming out monotoned and low.

"I'm goin' to Leroy's."

"Vince, it's the middle of the night."

"Don't care, 'm leavin'."

Vince moved around the taller man, wobbling toward the door. Howard grabbed him by the arm again, causing him to completely lose his balance and fall onto his knees. Vince's eyes were closed once more and he looked as wrecked as the room around them. Howard decided that they'd talk it out once the teen was sober, and wrapped his arms around the kid's chest. He lifted him up and dragged him to the couch.

The boy didn't resist, simply lay down where Howard left him. Howard grabbed up the duvet from the boy's bed and laid it over him. He then look down at his wristwatch and felt another surge wash over him for the hundredth time that night. It was four in the morning, and they had work in a few hours.

_'Shit. Fossil's going to kill us both.'_

Howard raked a hand across his face and through his hair. He'd have to inform Fossil that Vince wouldn't be in that day. He should also get some sleep while he could. Instead, Howard found himself wandering into the shower, where he stayed until the water went cold.

Then he slowly moved to his ransacked dresser, shifting though it to find fresh clothes that didn't smell of cigarette smoke. Choosing a white shirt, Howard went through his jeans and slacks before another realisation dawned on him.

"Where are my blue trousers?"

His only answer was Vince snoring from where he lay on his back, head to the side and spit leaking out the corner of his mouth. Watching the kid, Howard admitted to himself that he was quite unnerved by Vince's display earlier. What had come over the boy to make him get so angry with Howard? And over Mrs Gideon? He knew the boy was obviously high off whatever he'd taken that night, but for it to cause _that _kind of reaction, and to something so simple...

Hours later found Howard donning his Keeper jacket, which was amazingly one of the things left untouched by the carnage. He pulled on a pair of shoes and headed reluctantly out the door, exhausted and dreading the conversation he was about to have with Bob Fossil.

(Yeah, I already explained earlier how reckless Vince is, so don't act all surprised :/ Howard's gonna have to step up his game. Reviews are fuel and my car is running on fumes. Remedy this. Please?)


	24. Chapter 24

ILUVTHECHOSENONE: Short chapter is short. Officially have all of this fic hammered out, except a few small lines of dialouge. The sequel is still giving me pains though X_X I will tell you how many chapters are left in this one, though, in case you were wondering; 38 chapters :P so we still have a way to go!

chapter 24

Howard was sitting alone on his and Vinces' bench, eating a lunch he'd thrown together in a minute. He'd gone back to the Lodge to check up on the boy, and found that he was still asleep, now curled up on his side, cocooned in the blue duvet. Howard had taken out a bit of the only food that wasn't eaten and made a sandwich for himself. It _still _struck him how seven kids could completely dismantle a house in one night.

He was brought out of his dismal wonderings by Mrs Gideon, who walked over and smiled down on him, looking tired herself. They _had _been out into the early hours, after all.

"I had a really nice time, Howard. Maybe we could go out into town again some time? Do you have any shows coming up?"

"...Uh-um, no. I don't have any gigs yet. But yeah, we should definitely...go out...sometime. Um, how's next Saturday sound?"

He felt like such a fool, stuttering and gawking up at her like a schoolboy, but she only smiled in return, and nodded her head.

"That's sounds great. Why don't we drive this time? My feet still hurt," She laughed lightly at this, which assuaged _some _of Howard's sudden guilt. "I'll come by and pick you up in my car, alright? At, say...eight?"

"Y-yeah, eight. Sounds good."

Gideon smiled brightly once more and turned to go about her day, leaving Howard grinning up at the blue sky, chest warm and thrumming.

* * *

Howard came in through the front door, beyond tired from his day at work and lack of sleep, plus the fact that he had to cover Vince's duties as well as his own. Fossil had been less than understanding. Good thing those newts were easy to care for.

Glancing to the couch, Howard only found a rumpled blanket. Looking about the room, he spotted Vince, standing in front of the far wall, looking up at his old paper plates with odd paintings on them.

Howard closed the door and walked over to stand near Vince, not sure what to say. All day long he had rehearsed his line of questions for the boy, but now he was drawing a blank. Vince broke the silence first, voice still gravelly.

"Wish I could paint like I did back in school. 'S where I made these. Paints and easels are expensive, though. Might go back to school one day. Get me BTEC."

"...Yeah."

Vince wasn't talking about last night, which Howard was slowly learning meant that the kid was clamming up about it. Howard would probably only get half-answers if he tried. This knowledge made Howard even more tired, and with a slow intake of breath he turned and gathered some pajamas and went to take an early shower. Afterward he went to the small closet and removed two of the five spare sleeping bags that had been there since before Howard moved in. He was now thankful he'd never gotten rid of them.

Howard had planned on sitting Vince down and having a serious discussion on the new rules he planned to put in place, but the man was so tired his eyes were drifting closed even as he walked across the room. Wordlessly placing both sleeping bags on the floor, Howard crawled into one and shifted around for a few minutes before falling asleep, the back of Vince's legs in his line of sight as the boy continued to silently observe his old paintings.

* * *

When Howard awoke next it was to the light scratchings of Vince's pencil at work. The boy was seated on the sofa, television droning quietly, lost in his writings. Looking at his wristwatch, Howard saw that it was 10:15 at night. He still felt unbearably tired.

Sitting up with a quiet groan, Howard settled for watching the boy as he wrote. After a while, Vince caught on to his presence, looking up at him. His face was expressionless as he stood up from the couch, bringing his book with him. He closed it with his blue pencil still inside, sitting down in his own sleeping bag next to Howard. His voice when he spoke was just above a whisper, as though Howard were still asleep and Vince was trying not to wake him.

"I been using you as a character in some of my stories."

"Really...not sure what to think about that, Little Man."

Vince smiled slightly and turned to face Howard fully with his legs crossed.

"Yeah. I'm workin' on one right now about this bloke people call Gregg. Gregg's a manfish, only he ain't actually a _man_. It's a woman, but he kinda looks and sounds like a man, and people call him a 'he'...anyway, you find him an' he falls in love with you. But you don't love him back, so he kidnaps you and tries to force you into marryin' 'im."

"That sounds disturbing, Vince."

"Well don't worry, cause I come an' rescue you at the last minute."

"Charming. At least it's not another _Charlie_ book."

"Oh, I still write those. I just have other stories that I write now, like this one."

Howard wasn't sure whether to be flattered or frightened at the prospect of Vince holding creative power over a little fictional him, so he went for the third option; curious.

"Can I read one of these stories?"

Vince's posture went different, and he picked the book back up and held it in his lap.

"Um, not _quite_ yet...I'm not finished with any of 'em. And besides, I'd rather you read them as a whole when I've got them all done."

"How many are you planning to write?"

"Don't know. I figure I'll just know it when I'm finished."

Howard had no reply to that kind of backwards logic, and so just let the kid be. He rolled over, away from the boy with a tired groan and was welcoming a dreamless blackness before he could fully register what the kid was saying next.

* * *

Jolted to the waking world once again by the kid, Howard very nearly yelled at him from where he lay, face planted in his pillow, spit gathered underneath him. What stopped him was the fact that Vince seemed to be shrieking, speaking rapidly in a high-pitched voice. Howard's sleep-fogged mind went into instinct mode and his body slumped into a kneeling position, swaying a bit as his limbs tried to catch up with his brain.

He squinted in the direction of Vince, distantly noting that it was dawn, probably an hour or two before his alarm clock was timed to go off. Vince was at the phone, pressing it to the side of his face and speaking excitedly, not noticing at all that he'd disturbed Howard's rest.

Howard was too busy rubbing at his eyes and pondering the last tendrils of his half-dream thoughts to register much of what the kid was rabbiting on over, but he seemed incredibly happy about whatever the hell it was.

Howard sat back on his legs, looking over at the kid, about to raise his voice in question, when the boy apparently finished with his call, because he hung the phone up and whirled around. At seeing Howard awake, Vince's massive grin dimmed a few shades, and he walked quietly over to turn off the kitchen light before sitting back down in his own sleeping bag.

"Sorry, Howard. Forgot you was even here."

"What was that all about?"

Vince's grin came back immediately as he pulled his duvet over himself, remaining sitting as Howard flopped back down in his own mass of blankets.

"Oh, Leroy's girlfriend's just had her baby! Just about twenty minutes ago; can you believe it! He's about off his head on happiness. Called me right after he phoned up his mom an' all. It's a little girl, he says. They haven't decided on a name just yet, but he says as soon as he's able, he's gonna bring her by here an' let me meet her. I don't think I'm gonna go back to sleep, actually."

Vince got up out of his sleeping bag and moved quickly to gather his book and pencils. Resuming his spot once more, Vince immersed himself in his scribblings, effectively cutting off his conversation with Howard, who was perfectly fine with being left to himself in the nice quiet of the hut. He drifted in and out of consciousness before being pulled fully awake for the third time by his alarm clock. He smacked it much harder than he needed to, and headed for the shower. Vince was wrapped up in his duvet, still writing madly.

* * *

When Howard exited the bathroom soon after, dressed for the day and moving over to the door to pull on his Keeper jacket, he turned to the boy, who was staring at his own scribblings, pencil hovering over the pages.

"So...are you coming in for work today?"

Vince looked up at him, a strange, questioning look on his face.

"'Course, why wouldn't I?"

"...No reason. Just that you'd better get a move on or else you'll be late."

With that, Howard put his shoes on and went out the door, heading for the aviary and feeling the first touches of spring in the winter air.


	25. Chapter 25

LOTTAHOOPLA: A lot of time passes in this one, basically cause I couldn't come up with a bunch of filler in between. Ah well, prepare for some fluff, cause I feel like we need it right here in the middle of the tale, cause soon we'll be diving into the third half of this fic.

On a musical note, currently listening _repeatedly_ to Ale by Xiu Xiu. It has little to do with this chapter, but all to do with my current chapter I'm trying to hammer out on Series 2. Thought you fellow music enthusiasts might enjoy the 'sneak peek' so to speak. heh. Definitely put me in the right mind-set for book 2; the song's so desolate and uncomfortable O_o it really befits Howard in book 2. Anyway, I'll shut up now :) hope you enjoy!

Chapter 25

Four months passed by Howard in relative peace. He'd had a handful of gigs within that time, and had even started to get people coming up to him in the zoo or at the places he was booked, complimenting him on his wacky songs and lovely voice.

The boy was doing alright as well, with only two snags in the otherwise docile mood he'd been in since the birthday fiasco. The first being when Howard finally found the time and courage to have that little "rules" talk with him. The man had sat Vince on the sofa, television off, and explained very carefully that Vince was to never again go out with friends unless he had Howard's approval.

That had sparked off the first of the boy's ranting and excuses; all of which Howard ignored, waiting until the kid calmed and sat back down before he continued on. Howard was determined not to lose his temper, otherwise the whole thing would be a waste. He let the kid have a hissy fit all he liked, telling him that it wouldn't change the rules.

When he went quiet again Howard told the boy that he was to begin pulling his weight, at least a little. None of this 'leave things where you like and Howard will get it' deal they'd somehow made without Howard realising it. Now the boy was to wash the dishes every night and Howard planned on teaching him how to do his own laundry. And the man had warned Vince that anything of his found lying about in the hut, and not put away where it belonged, would be immediately deemed rubbish, and tossed in the bin. Vince had _really_ kicked off on that one, and Howard was glad that this was his final rule, as the boy's yelling was giving him a headache. Vince glared at him for the next few days, but grudgingly did his chores and Howard didn't see a single piece of ribbon or nailpaint scattered around the Lodge anymore.

The second snag, so to speak, had been when Howard met Tristan Butler. She had been that ethereal woman he and Vince had seen singing the night of Howard's first gig. Her pale blonde hair and grey eyes were positively captivating. She'd expressed her love for his odd music, wishing she could write like that. Howard, blushing like a fool and at a loss on what to say, merely began waffling about different writing and creative techniques.

_"Get in touch with your inner weirdness." _He'd said, feeling like an idiot, but not sure how to admit that all his lyrics came from the slightly drunk teenager sat next to him. Thankfully Vince just watched the two of them in silence, face hidden in the low lighting of the room.

The woman, Tristan, had said her goodbyes with a sweet smile and a wink, and Howard was very grateful for the dimness of the theatre as his face felt on fire.

Howard wasn't sure if what the boy threw that night was an actual tantrum or not, but Vince lay down on the floor when they returned to the hut and refused to move. He ignored Howard's questions and warnings to go to bed and simply lay there, staring at the ceiling and humming lowly. When Howard stilled his own speaking he caught a few words, but the boy was mostly mumbling.

"..._Lying down on the floor, like a crispy noodle cup boy_..."

"Alright Vince, now I'm going to count to three, and if you're not in your sleeping bag-"

"_Dreaming that you were once the child of a wolf, with your paper arms and wrists.._."

"One!"

* * *

Other than those two instances of the kid being...well, _the kid_, he was actually very tame compared to how he had been prior to the party. Howard figured it was the boy's way of apologising. To be honest the man was just happy Vince didn't actually leave for Leroy's like he'd been ready to that night. Hell, Howard doubted the boy even really remembered much of their fight. The months flew by in peace for Howard, and before he knew it his birthday was upon him. Something that Howard had mixed feelings about.

Currently the man felt foolish, sitting with his eyes closed, as Vince had instructed, on the sofa in the Keeper's Lodge. Sure, he'd made the kid do the exact same thing on _his_ birthday four months ago, but that was different. Howard was no kid. He was turning twenty-six today, not six! Howard huffed, ready to just open his eyes, but was interrupted as the boy could finally be heard opening the hut door. He'd gotten Howard a gift, despite Howard's long-winded arguments that he receive nothing, and had hidden the damn thing somewhere on zoo grounds. Why the hell he demanded Howard keep his eyes closed when Vince wasn't even in the same room the man didn't bother to question. He simply sat there with his arms folded, listening to Vince come to a halt a few steps in front of him.

"Alright, open your eyes!"

Howard wasn't certain what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a beautiful, if a little rugged, bass guitar. His arms fell limply to his sides, mouth falling open slightly as he alternated between gawking at the instrument and up at Vince, who was beaming brightly at the older man.

Howard honestly didn't think the kid really listened to him when he went off on a rant about his musical tastes and wishes for certain instruments, a bass especially. The boy had always seemed to tune him out the second Howard even _mentioned_ the word 'jazz'. Well...to put it simply, Howard was touched.

Standing silently, Howard carefully took the guitar, holding it up in the afternoon light and running the tips of his fingers along its strings. He admired the aged wood, chipped in certain places, obviously aged and well-used, but that only served to warm Howard's heart even more. The boy knew him too well.

Abruptly setting down the guitar behind him on the sofa cushions, Howard stepped forward to Vince, who had but a second to look confused before he was swept up in a tight hug. Howard lifted the kid off his toes, arms encircled around his middle, laughing as he heard the teen let out a short noise of surprise before bony fingers clutched his shoulders in an attempt to keep balance.

All the stress and remnants of anger held for the boy vanished for the time being as Howard slowly lowered the kid back down to stand on the floor. Vince looked up at him, taken off-guard by Howard's show of affection, something that was a rare occurrence. He then grinned up at the taller man, sounding slightly winded as he spoke.

"Guess that means you like it."

Howard just grinned back in silence, and immediately sat down upon the sofa cushions and held the already beloved guitar. He ran his thumb down over the strings, listening to the different pitches each one offered. Howard was head-over-heels at the moment, completely engaged in trying out his new bass guitar. After what seemed like an eternity, the man landed back down on earth and turned to Vince, who had settled next to him.

"How much did this cost? Vince, this is beautiful but...I told you before I want you to save your money-"

"Well then it's good that I got it free, yeah? Leroy can play bass, and this was one of his old ones. Was bought off a boutique when he was like fourteen. It's seen some history, that's for sure. Knew you'd love it, so I spent the better half o' the month phonin' up Leroy and beggin' him to give me it. Finally gave in; jus' can't say no to me."

Vince gave a self-satisfied smile at his knowledge of the sway he held over his best friend, and Howard wondered if the child was indeed also aware of the very same influence he had over Howard. The older man dearly hoped he didn't.

* * *

Howard could've gone about his day without saying a single word to the pseudo-shaman Naboo; really could've spent the remainder of his life in happiness just pretending that the man didn't exist. Yes, Howard liked to spend a few minutes of his free time some days imagining up alternate endings for that one day months ago when Howard had been ready and willing to murder Naboo and go to prison for the rest of his life.

Howard was unfortunately forced to acknowledge the man's presence on this earth when he showed up at his and Vinces' bench for lunch, only to spot the kid sitting back with a grin, listening to Naboo go on about some bullshit. Thankfully the shaman was standing, and not sitting in Howard's spot. The man might just have had to bleach his side of the bench otherwise. Plastering on a dark smile, Howard strode forward, delighting in how his shadow cast over the two.

"Not trying to talk him into riding on your magic carpet to the land of hangovers and abandonment, are you?"

Both looked up at him, smiles erased, and Vince clasped his hands over his crossed knees in apprehension as he looked between the two older men. Naboo, however, seemed to take Howard's aggression in stride, replying with an equally unfriendly smile, voice steady and slightly sarcastic.

"No, just the desert of nightmares."

Vince brightened, grinning once more at Naboo's 'good humor'. Howard felt the skin around his smile crack. He was stopped from replying further by the kid, who launched into speech, his words fast, as though he were afraid of leaving the two men in silence for even a small second.

"The desert of nightmares! Like in that story you told me, about visitin' the Fountain of Youth. Genius! Oi, Howard, you really should listen to his stories, they're amazin'. Like the one with the two famous musicians."

Finally Vince stopped, inhaling and then holding the breath in visibly, looking to Howard with pleading eyes, begging him not to start a fight. Howard reluctantly gave in and sat down in his seat with a huff, resolutely eating his lunch and ignoring Naboo and Vinces' continued (though more subdued) conversation.

* * *

The day of Leroy's visit with his new baby was an interesting one for Howard. Mainly because he'd never seen Vince so excited and nervous before, as though the bloody infant were _his_. Howard had said as much, and got a punch to the arm for it by the kid, who's cheeks bloomed slightly pink, which in turn had Howard laughing.

Vince and Howard met Leroy at the zoo gates, and as soon as the man parked the car Vince was at the passenger door, peering in the window at the little infant, alseep in an infant car seat. Leroy rounded the car, took one look at Vince, and burst into laughter just as Howard had. It was like scraping a bug off a windshield, moving Vince in order to actually open the passenger door.

Once they were all in the warmth of the Lodge, Leroy had removed his daughter, named Riley, from her little nest of blankets and handed her to Vince. The teen cradle her small body gently in the crook of his arm, and it was obvious that the boy's world had just crumbled down to contain only he and the girl. It sent sparks racing through Howard's head to see Vince behave so...well, _adoring_, to such a small being. If he were simply a stranger happening across this scene, he'd assume Vince were a new father.

He and Leroy spent the remainder of the afternoon conversing quietly over warm cups of tea, content to watch Vince as he sat on the sofa, transfixed, talking softly to Riley and doing a marvelous impression of a bursting star every time the little girl so much as smiled.

When dusk was upon them and Leroy had to leave for home, Howard thought for a few moments that Vince was going to refuse Leroy his own kid. But Vince, after a moment's hesitation, leant down and kissed the girl over her head before giving her over to her father. Leroy looked much like how Howard felt, and gave Vince a fond smile and one-armed hug before leaving with a promise to visit again soon.

The first thing Howard did, as soon as the Lodge door snapped shut, was mutely walk over to the kid and lift him off the ground in a bone-crunching hug of his own. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that caused his heart to turn to mush at the sight of Vince cradling a baby he obviously loved on sight, but it had Howard in a bit of an emotional state. Not that he was one for crying or talking about his feelings. No, best to just squeeze the kid half to death and then go and start supper.

* * *

As the weeks passed, word of Howard's reputation and talent was spreading, and he began getting calls to play his strange songs nearly every weekend. Vince usually tagged along, and of course became incredibly inebriated, leaving Howard to drag or carry him back to the Lodge as the Sunday morning sun rose. Each time Howard promised himself to keep the kid from becoming so intoxicated, but the little brat had his tricks.

Other than dealing with Vince's increasingly annoying ways, the one and only flaw in these otherwise perfect days was Howard's 'fallout' with Gideon. To be honest, fallout was a bit dramatic a word. Vince had used it, of course. Howard and Gideon had gone out to dinner four times since that first night, and greatly enjoyed eachother's company. On the fourth date, Howard had just up and told Gideon of his romantic feelings toward her. Gideon had gone stiff, and then did that thing where a woman looks like a combination of sad, angry, and regretful, as if _they_ were the ones getting dumped, more or less.

Gideon had claimed that her feelings, and these dinner dates, were nothing more than friendship, and that she only saw Howard as a good friend. And what was even more shocking was Howard's response. After the initial surprise and sadness...well, he felt _nothing_. He didn't go home and cry; he didn't rage into a fit. He didn't refuse to speak to Gideon. Howard felt...fine. Vince had seemed sure that it was only a cover-up, and treated Howard like an activated bomb for several days. Howard still felt love for Gideon. Still thought she was the classiest woman he'd ever set eyes on; but his heart wasn't smashed at all. Vince had called him psychotic, which caused Howard to laugh at the irony of that. Vince then proceeded to move to the other side of the room and stare at him for the rest of that evening.

* * *

Howard was exiting the hut front door, lunch in hand, heading toward where Vince no doubt was waiting. Moose intercepted him, clapping the other man over the back with a smile.

"Hey, Moono, what say you and me go out for some drinks tomorrow? You don't have a gig tonight, right?"

"Uh, no, sorry, not tonight Joey."

Moose's smile slipped off his face and he stood in Howard's path, looking a little hurt. Howard hadn't thought the rugged man capable of that expression. There was also anger swirling around in there.

"Look, Howard, I'm your friend right? What happened, we used to do damn near everything together! What happened to our nights out at the pub, huh? Now all I ever see you do is shut yourself away in the Lodge with that kid."

"Hey, don't bring Vince into this, alright, he's done nothing wrong-"

"Oh has he? When he first arrived, he cost us our newts, then gets me mowed down by the psycho llama, _and_ my own marmosets have never been found!"

"Now hold up a moment, you can't blame him for the marmosets!"

"Oh can't I? No animals ever just up and vanished like that before he showed up, Howard. 'M just sayng it like it is, mate. I just...I don't trust the guy, he still gives me a bad vibe."

"Yeah, well screw your vibe, I know the boy, an-"

"Do you? Hell, Moon, you never even _mentioned_ the boy before he turned up with ya that night in the lounge! _And_ you told me yourself that it'd been _years _since you saw him last. So really, Howard, how much _do_ you know?"

"I've got to go, lunch is nearly over."

"Alright then..."

Moose peppered this last sentence with just enough venom to make Howard walk around him with one eye on the other man. Howard should have known that this would happen. He'd been blowing off Moose for months now, and he honestly missed the guy. He did consider him his closest friend, aside from Vince. But that was just it. Vince didn't like Moose, and Joey certainly didn't trust the kid. So Howard was forced to pick a side, and the poor man was afraid he might have inadvertently done just that.

(Yeah yeah I know, Gideon and Howard are just friends. And trust me, there's a _reason_ for that...On another note, I liked writing the fluffyness with the baby :3 that hug was also _so_ Howard, hah. He's a man of many words right up until you get into emotions; then he'd just rather express himself through one small but powerful show of affection and then carry on as if nothing had happened. Please review with your opinions! Hate and love are both welcome here.)


	26. Chapter 26

BOREDOMKILLS: Early posting because this ch is atrociously short. Sorry 'bout that :(

Chapter 26

"What have you done to your hair?"

"You like it?"

Howard was currently sitting just outside Cooper's exhibit, reaching his arm in and petting the red little fox. The kid had disappeared earlier that Sunday, and now stood before Howard with a huge grin and hair that was dyed several shades of blond and brown. There were a bit too many highlights for Howard's taste, but it was the boy's head, after all. Howard turned back to Cooper, watching the the little guy as he ate the treats Howard threw in.

"'S alright. At least it doesn't have weird streaks of red in it."

"Oh come off that. Just felt like a change, y'know? And you _did_ say that one time you liked my hair when it was blond. So do you like it?

"Hmm? Yes, Vince, it's fine. You didn't have to change it just on account of a throwaway comment I can't even remember making."

"That's cause you were off your tits that night. It was amazin', I had to drag _you_ home. And then you found that old rusty wheelbarrow and started wheelin' it around town, calling out to any poor woman who walked by!"

Vince began chuckling loudly at the memory, and Howard cringed at it as well. He really shouldn't have agreed to drink whatever Vince ordered for him.

* * *

Howard knew the makings of a storm when he spotted it on the horizon, or in this case in the centre of the Zooniverse that afternoon. They had had their posts switched, which hadn't happened in a long time. Howard was one of the lucky few who managed to keep their positions, but the majority were now standing around discussing and mainly complaining about the animals they were to be in charge of now.

Two such individuals were Vince and Joey. Moose had Vince cornered near an exhibit and was simultaneously explaining how to specifically care for each and every amphibian and reptile that was previously under Joey's care, and threatening Vince with violence should the boy screw up.

Howard hastened toward them as it became apparent a fight was soon to break out. Vince was shoving Moose back, and as Howard neared he could make out their lowered tones.

"...don't need you preachin' at me-"

"No I think you do; you don't know anything about carin' for any of these animals! You're way out of your depth, and if you mess up and get one of _my_ animals sick, I promise you boy, I'll come for you. I'm a great white shark, _so look out_."

"Hey now!"

Howard quickly stepped in between the two, pushing Vince back into an exhibit wall and Moose into the gathered crowd. He kept his hands held on both their chests, looking first to Moose with a warning to back off, and then to Vince. He grabbed the kid by an arm and walked silently back to their house, ignoring the angered look on Moose and the disappointed expression of the fellow staff, craving a good row.

Seriously, sometimes Howard was convinced Fossil did things like this post switch on purpose, just to watch them all dance.

* * *

Ah yes, Howard had predicted a storm, but if he thought that little display was it, then he had horribly miscalculated. That was merely the light rain before the hurricane, which hit full-force not two days later, when Howard heard yelling coming from nearby. Dropping his shovel, Howard jogged toward the sound, which was rising rapidly as several other voices joined in, one of which Howard instantly recognised.

Coming around the Reptile House and to the Chameleon Boudoir, Howard saw many staff members, including Fossil, surround Joey and Vince, the former of whom was screaming at the top of his lungs now. Howard ran into the middle of the circle, coming to stand beside Vince and put both hands up as he attempted to placate a raging Joey.

"Alright now, just tell me what's happened. It's alright, Joey-"

"No it's not alright! Cause I came by to check up on my animals, ya see, and my goddamn iguanas are missing! This piece of shit has gone and lost _my_ iguanas, Howard!"

"I did _not_! I don' know what happen-"

"_Yes you do_! You either left a door open, or you plain just stole 'em! So which one is it!?"

"_Neither_!"

"Joey-"

"I've 'ad it with you stickin' up for him, Howard! He's lost my animals! Mine! At least make him own up to it!"

"But I didn't do ANYTHING!"

This was clearly going beyond words, and Howard looked about desperately for someone who might help him keep these two from pulling punches. Sadly everyone either looked like they wanted to see a good bit of bloodshed, or too wimpy to stand in and call for peace. Howard reached out to the only one he could.

"Fossil, do something! They can't be brawling in the zoo while there are guests about. If we just calm them down-"

"Oh no, Moon, it's best to just let them work it out. They'll quit as soon as they're done."

Fossil, with his arms crossed, watched the two as one would observe a fight between a pair of chimpanzees, and Howard knew he was alone in this. The man's attention snapped back to the two as he heard the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh. Moose apparently had gone in to grab the boy, but Vince was quicker, fists hitting upon the taller man's chest, effectively pushing him away. This only served to cause Joey's face to go red with rage. The man pointed a finger at the kid, stepping forward threateningly.

"You've cost me my animals, boy. Before this is over, I _will _break your jaw for that."

Now Howard was stepping between them again. This had gone too far, much too far. Joey shoved Howard's hand away, keeping his eyes locked on Vince, who was hauled back by Howard.

"Look, let's all just talk about this-"

"Just keep that Aussie brute away from me!"

Howard silenced Vince by squeezing his arm and yanking him to stand behind Howard. The man faced Moose himself, who still seemed in an unholy mood but wasn't quite as red in the face.

"Please, Joey, this isn't worth getting into a fight over. Vince didn't steal your animals, and I'm sure he didn't leave a cage open. He hasn't done any such thing at his last post-"

"Why are you defendin' him! If it'd been anyone else, you'd be on _my_ side-"

"I _am_ on your side."

Moose let out a mirthless laugh, "Yeah right, Moon. That kid's got you wrapped up around his damn finger, and you'll be standin' up for him even if _all _our animals go missing."

Vince charged forward around Howard, coming to stand right in front of Moose again.

"I DID NOT STEAL THEM!"

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"

And here they were, full circle, back to how Howard had found them, in each others' faces and screaming. Howard raised his arms in the air before grabbing Vince by his shoulders and hauling him back.

The threats and insults went on for several minutes, and eventually Howard just hooked an arm around Vince's middle and toted the boy, kicking and yelling, all the way back to the hut. Thankfully, Moose didn't follow, but Howard still latched the door and sat the kid on the sofa, giving his own barrage of threats should the boy rise from that spot. Howard then turned on the television and went to prepare tea. He even forgot they had work.

(Reviews keep me inspired!)


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Today was a big day; or at least would be, if Howard actually cared. Fossil, at least, was in a much better mood, though he did get into an argument with Naboo over his lack of 'proper zoo staff attire'. Howard had chosen not to intervene, and kept Vince from doing so, leaving the shaman to dish that one out on his own.

That afternoon all staff members stood around the front office door in clusters. It had been nearly two years since they had seen Dixon Bainbrige. Ever since his 'promotion', he much preferred to operate the zoo from a distance, leaving Fossil almost completely in charge.

Howard's thoughts were interrupted as Dixon emerged from the office door, where he had been since he arrived earlier that morning. The man looked around himself slowly, taking in all the familiar faces of the employees of his zoo. One thing Bainbridge was good at was remembering the faces and names of all who worked under him. So it's no surprise that when his eyes landed on Vince, he paused. Stepping over to Howard and the kid, Bainbridge eyed the boy in silence before turning to Fossil with a questioning glance.

"Oh uh, he's new. Yeah, um, Howard hired him as an apprentice."

"I wasn't aware we were taking on new keepers. I can barely afford to pay the lot of you as is."

Fossil looked uncomfortable, and Howard just stood his ground resolutely at what was most certainly a mental jab in his direction as Bainbridge's eyes met his before walking back to his place in the centre of the people.

"And what is this new apprentice's name?"

Vince answered before Fossil or Howard had the chance to open their mouths.

"Vince Noir."

Bainbridge smiled at the boy, once again facing him but at a much more comfortable distance.

"Vince Noir. And how has this young man been doing at my fine zoo since he was taken on?"

Howard, Fossil and Moose answered simultaneously, all in varying degrees.

"Just fine."

"There _were_ a few mishaps."

"Awful."

Howard inwardly cursed as Dixon turned on his heel to face Moose with raised eyebrows.

"Oh? Do tell, how has the boy been awful?"

"Well first off there's the disaster with our breeding program, and then multiple animals have gone missing since he's been here-"

"That's quite enough. I see no reason to hold the boy at fault. Let's just let bygones be bygones, shall we?"

Now _that_ was new. Bainbridge completely dropping accusations against a staff member was unheard of, especially a new one whom he'd never met. But here the man was, walking away from Moose without so much as a glance in Vince's direction.

The rest of Bainbridge's visit went like it always did. The mustached man toured the zoo, no doubt looking for anything he could find fault with. After screaming at one of the women about the bars on the bear's cage looking too rusted (even though it wasn't her responsibility to replace them), Dixon considered it a day done, and retired into the office building to look over recent paperwork. The entire zoo seemed to let out a breath of relief as the man disappeared, and the weeping woman was tended to by various others.

Howard shepherded Vince back into the Lodge, and the two willingly forgot about the happenings of the day as they plopped down in front of the tv, Vince shuffling over to lean against Howard, as was becoming custom. Howard was getting better at not moving away, and only remained tense for a few moments this time before relaxing.

* * *

Vince entered the hut door, looking forlorn. Howard knew exactly why. Earlier that day two teenaged girls had come to the zoo. They were quite well-dressed, catching Howard's eye as they scampered over to him, all smiles and shy glances. They'd apparently seen him sing and wanted to ask if he's be in their band. Howard had politely declined. For one thing, he much preferred working alone; and really, a twenty-six year old man in a band with two teenaged girls was a bit disconcerting. That's when Vince had offered to be in their group instead. Howard agreed, telling the females just how great the boy could sing, and his growing talent on the keyboard. The girls visibly changed from adoring to aloof and slightly mocking, stating that the position had just been filled, and left shortly after, talking lowly amongst themselves.

Howard looked down at the boy as he slumped beside Howard now on the sofa. The man draped an arm over the teen's shoulder, shaking him lightly to try and cheer him up.

"Hey, Little Man, it's no big deal...tell you what, you can sing with me at my next gig, alright?"

Vince gave a half-smile at Howard, and seemed to brighten at the offer, only to dim once more, leaning back into the supportive arm.

"Naw, said so yourself; you prefer to play alone. And besides, I'm fine. Just thought it might be cool to be in a band again. Who needs 'em anyway, probably just a couple o' bean flickers."

Howard flicked Vince's ear, causing the boy to yelp lightly and lean forward, looking put off but grinning. He then promptly stole the remote and switched to cartoons.

* * *

Tristan Butler showed up at Howard's latest gig that Saturday. Apparently she'd been booked to go on before he'd arrived. Howard didn't think it was possible but she was just as radiant sitting at a table in the shadows as she was lit up on stage. Howard offered her to join him at his lonely little corner of the room; Vince had stayed home on this night, as he was beginning to do more and more often. Howard figured he was just becoming a bit bored with the whole gig thing. It did leave Howard feeling a bit lonely at his little table after each performance.

He and Tristan enjoyed eachother's company, sharing about themselves as the music and chatter drifted around them. She was a college dropout, daughter of two rather wealthy scholars, and no, they _didn't_ approve of her choice to leave college to become a secretary with singing gigs on the side.

She had a bit of a foul mouth, but was kind and loved animals and was excited when Howard told her of his job and wanted to know more about him and loved the color purple and dogs were her favorite animal and oh god Howard fancied her.

_'Shit.' _

Was he really that desperate, or just easy? Howard was more than a little ashamed that he was already in a sweat over a woman he'd only been talking to for four hours now. Was he just fickle? Shallow? Or a hopeless romantic? Whatever he was, Howard quickly made an excuse to leave, stating before he could really think about it that he had a kid at home. Tristan had seemed a little taken aback by that, and Howard caught her eyes as they darted to his ring finger.

"Oh! Oh no, I'm not married. And he's not really my kid. I mean, well, technically I look after him, and he lives with me, but- no, I'm not married or anything."

The woman had laughed at his stutterings, flushing a bit herself at her mistake, and before Howard could blunder on further, she had taken out a small pen from her purse and wrote her phone number on a serviette, handing it to him. She gave him a small moist peck on the cheek before excusing herself, leaving the man standing in the middle of the restaurant, mind in shambles.

Vince had of course been up in arms when Howard arrived many hours later than he'd said he would, but thankfully the Lodge wasn't in pieces like the last time. When Howard stated this, meaning only to joke, it seemed to darken the boy's mood further. The teen had promptly crawled into his sleeping bag and went quiet.

Howard safely stowed away the serviette in his dresser as he fished about for night clothing. He'd wait three days. Isn't that what you were supposed to do? Wait three days and then call? Howard wanted to question Vince on this, but decided against it, remembering the endless vilify he'd spewed when Howard had thought he was in love with Gideon. Now the kid barely acknowledged the woman, as if she were a ghost. The teen was beyond bizarre.

(Yes yes, I know. Tristan, an OC. Oh lawd no! I can't stand mary-sues, so I **really **didn't want to create Tristan in the first place, but...well, I like Gideon a _lot_, and that's why I made her not love Howard back. I know, that makes no sense to you guys, but I can't elaborate without spoiling future chapters. Just know that I created Tristan out of pure love for Gideon's character. Anyway, next chapter launches the third act of this play, and I promise you it's high speed all the way to the finish from here :P)


	28. Chapter 28

NEXTSTOPANGSTVILLE: Aaaand welcome to the third and final act of this three-part play within a three-part trilogy! Everything's going to be moving pretty quickly from here on, so strap down and keep your hands and feet inside at all times.

Now, the song for this chapter, as well as the rest of the fic is 'The Tears' by Robots in Disguise. This song is amazing, and it describes Vince _perfectly_. It's basically his entire mindset for this entire half of the story, and the lyrics hold some nice little hints for the dark future to come hehehe. If you've never heard it before, I'd definitely give it a listen! The song's practically linked to the Boosh, anyway.

I'm also glad to say my writer's block has vanished completely for now, so expect chapters every week! Unless something goes awry and I'm not able to get internet, which is unfortunately a possibility :( but hang tight cause I'll try my hardest to get the remaining nine chapters out to you guys!

Chapter 28

Howard smiled goofily as he ended his weekly phone call with Tristan. They spent Sunday nights conversing for hours on end, talking about nothing and everything until finally one of them got too tired. Howard had yet to agree to a date with the woman. He really didn't want to go out with her while he was so unsure of his feelings. He knew he fancied her, but was it more than that? Or was he just smitten by a pretty face. He really didn't want to go through the whole Gideon crisis again. No, this would be taken very slowly. Maybe by the end of the month he'd ask her out. Maybe. When he was actually _sure_ of his muddled emotions.

Yawning widely, Howard crawled into his sleeping bag, looking over at the quietly sleeping boy before he too drifted off.

* * *

"Had a dream you and I was in a band."

"Oh? And how'd that work out?"

Howard sat down beside Vince, coffee in hand as he awaited the boy's answer. This wasn't the first time the kid talked of he and Howard being in a musical group together, even though he refused Howard's offers to perform with him at one of his gigs.

_'The boy's a labyrinth.'_

"Not so good. Them two girls from before were in the band with us. They wanted to stab me up."

"Sounds eventful. Did they? Stab you up, that is."

"Nope, cause you came strollin' 'round the corner right at the last second."

"Like some sort of action hero, huh?"

Vince laughed, but didn't tell anymore of the dream, as he was known to do, so Howard smiled back and relaxed into his cooling mug of coffee. He had a feeling that the day was going to be quite peaceful.

* * *

Howard was surprisingly correct. The day _was_ peaceful, up until lunch hour. Howard was feeling slightly ill, and so decided to go toward the bench early without fetching any food. This was when he discovered two things.

One, that Vince apparently left his post early in order to stand across from the bench, leaning against an exhibit wall.

The second was that Vince had the remains of a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he pulled a small can of spray from his jacket pocket. Vince then moved to a nearby bin, throwing the stub inside before spraying himself with the can of deodorant.

When Vince turned to see Howard, standing with arms crossed, he froze slightly before stuffing the can back into his pocket and sitting down. Howard, after a moment's indecision, joined him. The two sat in strained silence, until Howard turned to face the boy, who was already studying him.

"You do know I'll not allow you to start up a habit."

Vince turned away with a smirk playing up the side of his face, causing Howard's ire to rise. He pointed at Vince, eyebrows rising.

"I mean it, Vince. You're not taking up smoking."

"Well...it's a little late for that."

"You're only si- wait what, what do you mean too late?"

"I mean you're about four years too late. I've nearly quit, actually, but sometimes I just need a quick smoke before lunch."

Howard stared at him, mentally trying to back-track through the months, attempting to spot a time when he caught Vince smoking or saw evidence of the fact. Vince, reading him like a book, laughed quietly.

"Oh don't worry, Howard. My guardians didn't even know. You see, I'm good at hiding things that I don't want no one knowin'. And to be honest, you're a lot easier to trick than they was. You don't see what you don't want to, Howard."

Vince's voice had gotten softer and slightly wistful as he spoke, and by the end he was watching Howard from the corner of his eye, a solemn smile on his face. He didn't seem at all bothered that Howard now knew about his smoking. As if it were no big deal. Well, it _was_ a big deal to Howard, and the man was determined to make Vince see that.

"What I said before still stands, Vince. You're not smoking anymore; not now that I know. You hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you."

Vince's expression didn't change, irking Howard all the more. The little brat thought he could outwit him! And Howard had to admit to himself, the kid was more than a little right. Howard couldn't keep watch over him at every turn. Didn't mean he had to be alright with it.

The rest of the hour passed with Vince walking serenely around the zoo while Howard hovered around him, drilling smoking facts and risks into his head the entire time. Howard even needed to be reminded by the teen that their hour was up, and the flustered man had stomped off to his post in simmering silence.

* * *

Howard had calmed down by the time closing hours arrived, in no small thanks to the never-ending mantra he'd taken to repeating in his head.

_'You're not the boy's father. You're not the boy's father. What does it matter what he chooses to do with himself? It's his choice. You're not his father. Tethering him to the sofa is frowned upon in the eyes of law enforcement.'_

The kid's presence on said sofa didn't help much, though Howard knew if the boy was out, Howard would've taken to roving the countryside just to make certain he wasn't off getting into _more_ trouble. Seriously, though, Howard was becoming quite paranoid now. The kid had acted on as if he had a million-and-one secrets, and Howard was simply too ignorant to observe them. Yeah right. Howard was very observant!

_'Don't notice what I don't want to...what a load of toss. I notice plenty that I wish I didn't! What's with him being all cryptic like that, anyhow?'_

Needing to clear his mind, Howard went about opening all the windows, reveling in the light breeze. He also turned off the tv, mostly out of spite, as it caused Vince to send him a look of disdain before the boy retrieved his book and began scribbling in its pages. The man walked over to his gramophone, which still had a record in it. He switched it on, music filling the air as Howard turned the volume as high as it would go.

As the man went back into the kitchen to begin making dinner, he heard Vince say something, but couldn't make it out in through the soothing notes of Coltrane. Looking at the boy, Howard supposed he had simply imagined it, as Vince didn't repeat himself, head and shoulders bent over his book.

There _was_ a sound that pierced through the music, however. It was a round of loud metallic clangs, followed by screaming. Dropping a pan, Howard ran for the door. Flinging it open, he moved cautiously toward the sound of the nearby commotion. He felt Vince lay a hand on his back, and moved his left arm behind him to grip the kid by his shirt, effectively keeping the boy behind him as they rounded a second corner.

There Howard froze to a halt. Before him was Ivan the bear's exhibit. Three rusted bars were lying in front of it, bent and broken. That's when one of the female keepers came screaming toward them, bear not too far behind. Howard quickly moved back into a wall, not fully realising that he still clutched Vince captive behind him until the boy was crushed up between Howard and the bricks. Howard felt the breath leave the boy on impact, and winced in empathy, but refused to move an inch as the fellow keeper ran past them.

The bear, not really running, came meandering down the pathway toward Howard, who sucked in a breath and held it, as if staying absolutely still would convince the bear that he and the kid were part of the wall structure. Just then, Fossil appeared around the corner, no doubt having taken his time to investigate the screams. Ivan spotted him immediately and let loose a low growl, taking up an aggressive stance as he deviated from Howard toward the chief manager. Howard felt it was poetic justice, after having caught Fossil teasing many of the zoo animals on numerous occasions. Fossil went completely white, arms raised as he backed into an exhibit, Ivan advancing.

"No, wait, please! Don't kill me, I love Lennon!"

Howard would've laughed had he not been certain he was about to witness Bob getting mauled to death by a large bear. He wanted to turn and cover Vince's eyes, but feared attracting the bear to them once more.

Seemed Fossil possessed an unfair amount of luck. As Ivan stood on hind legs before the trembling man, the bear suddenly toppled like a tree to his side. He quickly rose, stumbling down the pathway, roaring and throwing over anything not nailed to the ground. As the three watched after him in confusion, Naboo came into view, face stoic, tranq gun in his arms. Howard would never admit it, but he was impressed, and grateful as well, if only so that Vince had been spared the sight of a mauling. The boy was surprisingly still and silent behind Howard, and the man quickly stepped forward, afraid he might have hurt him. He distantly heard Fossil praising and blessing Naboo, who seemed entirely disinterested, following the trail of overturned bins and benches to where Ivan no doubt lay in medicated slumber.

Howard carefully looked Vince over. The boy seemed winded and subdued, but Howard knew that was mainly out of lingering fear. Howard couldn't blame him; he felt a bit wobbly himself. It wasn't every day you had an escaped, angry bear stroll right past you with every intent to kill your manager.

"Are you alright?"

Vince seemed to come out of his thoughts at Howard's question, looking him in the face with an expression of mixed disbelief and awe.

"Yeah. Can you believe that! Never thought he could just up and break through solid bars like that; must've been _well_ mad over something. Was your stupid jazz what did it, I bet."

* * *

Later that afternoon, after the bear had been placed in one of the zoo's holding crates, Fossil called Howard and Vince into his office. The man still appeared quite shaken, and very angry. He'd fired the woman in charge of Ivan, blaming her for the rusted exhibit bars. He fixed Howard with a look that left no room for argument, and gave no insults or smart comments the entire time. Howard was quite surprised that the man could be serious when he wanted.

"I want you to be the one who transfers the damn bear. That means I want you awake and ready first thing tomorrow morning at five, got that? We're using that old transport car. I'll give you a map with directions to the facility."

"Where's he going to?"

Vince had asked the question before Howard could. Fossil, seeming to notice Vince for the first time, dropped his solemn expression and adopted a mockingly happy one, voice patronisingly sweet, as if he were talking down to a three-year-old. Howard knew he was doing it on purpose, and sighed long and hard through his nose. So much for a sombre Bob Fossil.

"Well, Vincey, you see, when animals are bad, they go to a special little zoo for animal offenders. It's sorta like animal prison. You got the Ku Klux goose there, and a Nazi turtle, the whole nine yards."

"Who runs it?"

Vince seemed genuinely curious, whether he actually believed Fossil or not. The blue-shirted man's grin widened, saccharine tone pouring out through his teeth.

"Why, my brother of course! Wilbur, my twin brother, owns the place. Yep! He'll be happy that we've got a new addition for him."

This was when Howard excused them from the office, bidding Fossil a very venomous "good day", wrapping a firm hand around Vince's arm and guiding him out of the building.

* * *

Howard wasn't sure this transfer counted as a day off, and was more than a little pissed off when Fossil stated it as such. He had also included Vince in the transfer, even though Howard was certain the man had initially meant only Howard to go. Howard was secretly glad for that, not liking the image of Vince alone for nearly two days.

The kid was beyond chuffed, treating this as though it were a roadtrip; a grand adventure. He stayed up into the night packing and repacking, before Howard finally forced him to lay down and go to sleep. Honestly, the kid got so excited over the simplest things. He'd once found an abandoned shoe just outside the zoo gates one day, and had carried the dingy thing around for ages, grinning and telling everyone all of his theories on how the shoe had gotten there, much to Howard's mortification. The older man had resorted to throwing the smelly thing out when Vince was asleep one night.

Yawning widely, Howard stood, bag thrown over his shoulder, as he listened to Fossil carry on about how he expected everything to go. He finally handed over the map and instructions to Howard, who made his way to the transfer car, which wasn't much more than a shoddy, outdated van with the back end sealed off.

Vince joined him in the passenger's seat, grinning widely, and Howard gave a small sigh as he pulled the vehicle through the open zoo gates and out onto the road.

The man knew not five minutes into the trip that it would be a long one, as Vince immediately pulled out a pile of cassettes from his bag, many of which clattered messily around them. He popped one in, and Howard grated his teeth as he fought off the beginnings of a headache at the annoying ear-blasting beat that raged from the ancient speakers. It didn't help that Vince thought it appropriate to dance about in his seat, bumping obnoxiously into Howard repeatedly, causing the man's tight grip on the steering wheel to jerk.

Ivan could be heard shuffling about behind them, and Howard's nerves rose considerably. He reached over to turn down the music, earning him an outraged look from Vince.

"Hey I was listenin' to that!"

"Well you can listen to it like this. Anyway, I want to keep an ear out for Ivan. Don't think he appreciates you blasting him with that gloomy racket."

"Oh come on, he loves it! He was just dancin' to it, is all. You just wanna put on one of your shit jazz tapes."

"Well what if I do? I'm the driver; I say it's _my_ music we listen to."

"Uh uh, no way. It was your jazz that made him escape the last time. You want him poppin' out the back o' this van?"

Howard settled a glare Vince's way before pulling his eyes back to the road. That was about the hundredth time the kid had blamed Howard's music for the bear's escape. He seemed to take it as some sort of ultimate proof that jazz was the Devil's art.

* * *

A full hour of electro nonsense and Howard was nursing an ache just beneath the skin of his forehead. He could feel himself going slightly cross-eyed when he focused on it, like a single bullet point on his head. He was quite proud of himself for not snatching the cassette from the player and throwing it out the window; Vince still hadn't forgiven him for chucking another of his tapes on the dirt a few weeks ago.

It didn't help that his stomach took this opportunity to growl loudly. He hadn't had the mind to bring any food with him, so intent was he on seeing to his _and _Vince's packing. He'd been certain there would be at least _one_ station or market on their trip. But it seemed as though Fossil had chosen the most desolate route possible, and Howard dreaded to think what might happen if they ran dry on fuel before arriving at the bear sanctuary. There was nothing but trees on either side of the lonely, narrow road.

Not able to take one more synthetic note, Howard ejected the tape, sighing heavily in relief as the silence poured over him like cold water. It didn't last long, of course, as the man felt Vince's eyes pierce into the side of his face for all of five seconds before the boy's voice was filling the air.

"You know, this forest actually reminds me of the old monkey king's territ'ry. I ever tell you 'bout the monkeys?"

"Those face-stealing ones? Yeah, you've mentioned them a bit."

Vince smiled now, and Howard leaned back in his seat. As much as the boy's voice grated on his nerves, when he started up one of his tales, no matter how wacky or illogical, they always lightened Howard's mood. And it had been a few months since the kid actually sat down with Howard and told him a full story; Howard had begun to miss them.

"Well, back when I was with Bryan, and we still lived in our bus ticket house, Bryan left on another of his tours. I always missed him, but it was alright, cause he left me with Jahooli the leopard. Me an' him were great mates, and he'd take me hunting in the jungle, and would even let me eat meat! Bryan would've kicked off if he ever found out."

Vince broke off into laughter that was filled with such genuine fondness that for a few moments Howard himself believed the boy to be telling the truth, before he quickly reminded himself that Vince was more than a little delusional. This always brought Howard's mood crashing, so he pushed such thoughts aside and listened as the kid continued, grinning still.

"Anyway, one afternoon, me an' Jahooli were just noddin' off, up in a tree, when old Calooni the cobra came slithering over.

_"Oh, you should never sleep_," he said.

_"Why, Calooni?"_ I asked.

He then told me that the monkey king was looking for a man's face, in order to be a proper king. He'd seen my face, and said _that _was the one he wanted. Calooni was known to be a liar, so I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. Still, I tried my best to stay awake...but it was so hot out that day, and I was so tired. I couldn't help it, I fell asleep!"

Howard smiled back at the kid, enjoying the suspense that the boy always managed to instil in each of his fables. He really should try to convince the kid to write these stories down and sell them one day. Together they could certainly make enough money to get the zoo back on its feet. The boy was now looking out his window, and Howard raised his voice, curious at the silence.

"And?"

"And what?"

"What happened next?"

"Ahh, that's another story for another time."

"What d'you mean?"

"I've told you all you need to hear-"

"No you haven't, 'cause you haven't given me the ending."

"You'll hear the end another time."

"Another time is now because I want to hear the end."

Vince laughed lightly again, and Howard bit back a few choice words. The damn kid was pulling another one of his abrupt ending shticks. The older man was _certain_ he did it on purpose sometimes. Howard resolved to gripping the steering wheel tighter and staring out onto the road ahead, silence ringing once more.

It was the boy who broke the quiet _again_, this time with the distinct crinkle of a paper bag that he pulled from seemingly nowhere. Howard glanced over, relieved that one of them had had the mind to bring along food. He gestured at Vince as the boy dropped gummy bears into his mouth one at a time.

"What have you got in there? I'm starving."

"Um, I got some bootlaces, some flyin' saucers, candy sticks, what do you want?"

"...No, I mean real food. You got any real food in there?"

"Yeah, I got some pips, a few-"

"No, Vince, I mean real actual food. You got any fruit in there? Some, I don't know, rice?"

"I got a rice crispy's bar if you want it."

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

Howard took note of the time, groaning inwardly at seeing that they still had seven hours to go. Howard could only pray that there would be food when they got there. Vince then proceeded to show Howard his impression of a turtle eating, and Howard absently rubbed at his forehead, headache still thrumming.

* * *

Confections all gone, Vince was now incredibly bored. Howard knew this because the teen was currently launching balled up candy wrappers at him. Vince had also taken to laying propped up against the passenger door, legs stretched out across the seat, feet planted right on Howard's lap. Howard wanted to point out that not only was it incredibly unsafe to put all of your weight against a car door like that, but having the boy's feet shifting about impatiently in Howard's lap was terribly uncomfortable. Thankfully the kid had taken his red boots off, although the neon glare of his mismatched socks did little to soothe Howard's head. He could see from the corner of his eye that Vince was busily scribbling with a red marker onto a piece of folded paper. The boy suddenly flung the paper to the floor of the van, huffing.

"I'm bored, Howard."

"I can tell."

"Tell us a story."

"I don't know any stories, Vince. Besides, you're the one who's always doing that, not me."

"Exactly! So I wanna hear one. C'mon, it don't even have to be an adventure story. Like...tell me about the zoo. Y'know, before I ever worked there. You don't talk about that much."

Howard had to think for a while; it was true that he preferred not to reminisce about the 'golden days' of the Zooniverse. He'd told Vince hardly anything about those seven years. The kid was once again tearing holes into his flesh with those eyes, waiting silently for the man to speak. Not feeling he had much of a choice, Howard opened his mouth to start, voice quieter than he'd intended.

"Before Bainbridge owned the zoo, it was ran by a man named Tommy Nooka."

"Yeah I know; heard Fossil talkin' 'bout him one day, so I asked what happened to him."

Howard was taken aback, and glanced at Vince.

"Really? And...what did he say?"

"He said that Tommy was livin' in the Jungle Room, and that he was cheese now. Or somethin' like that. Can't really remember; that was nearly a year ago."

"The Jungle Room?"

"Yeah, where they keep all the zoo's wolves."

"Vince. We don't _have_ a Jungle Room, and the zoo doesn't own any wolves."

Vince tilted his head in Howard's direction, feet shifting again, causing Howard to press the accelerator a bit too hard for a moment. Really, did this kid have no concept of personal space!? Vince was visibly awaiting for Howard to continue speaking, so the man gave in with a huff.

"Well, whatever Fossil said to you, Tommy is not in a jungle, and he's not _cheese_. He disappeared completely, just out of the blue. There was an investigation, but nothing ever came of it. Police figure he just up and ran off on another of his expeditions. Preposterous, I say. Tommy_ was _supposed to go on another adventure, to Spain, and he said he would take me along with him. He wouldn't have just up and left with no word to anyone, and he _certainly_ wouldn't have abandoned to zoo. The Zooniverse was his life."

Howard gave a short laugh, thinking of the grand adventures he would've had, deep in the heart of Spain with his hero.

"It's too bad I never got to go to Spain. Might've gotten to meet my uncle Pedro. Don't think I ever told you this, Vince, but I'm actually Spanish."

Vince gave Howard an incredulous look, leaning up a bit.

"You are _not_. You're clearly from Leeds!"

"Well yes, _I'm_ from Leeds, but my part of my grandfather's family came over to England from Spain a long time ago."

"Oh alright then; well why don't we go to Spain?" Vince's feet began shifting once more as he leant forward.

"Well, Vince, we can't just pack up and move to another country, now can we?" The boy was clearly joking; had to be.

"Sure we can! It'll be easy; might run into some of _my_ relatives as well." Maybe not.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm Spanish."

"No you're not." Howard felt his head pound in rhythm with his pulse.

"Yes I am, I'm deeply Spanish." Now _that_ was a particularly uncomfortable twitch of the boy's feet.

"Why do you always have to do that? Why do you always have to have what I have, copying me at every turn? I'm trying to tell a serious story here. And I _am_ Spanish, by the way."

Vince just grinned in a way that spoke of how little he believed Howard, and the older man went silent in frustration, foul mood returning in full force.

"Anyway, Tommy...he was a great man. He was the kind of man that I wanted to be; a wise man, a man of action. A man of great pride and stature-"

"Get lost, I've seen a photo of 'im! Naboo had one he nicked out of Fossil's office. Don't know what Naboo had it for, since _he _never met the bloke neither. Nooka was short; not much taller than me, I'd bet! With his little squat legs-"

"Alright now, don't be bad-mouthing my hero! Women would swoon over Tommy. He had everyone's respect. Tommy was a good man, a handsome man."

"Did you have some sorta crush on 'im?"

"Wai-no-what? Vince, I think you need your head checked. Now don't be speaking ill of my idol. Tommy and me, we would've gone on great adventures had he not vanished. He wasn't only an adventurer, Tommy, he was also a deep thinker; a man of thought, and of dreams. We all dream, but do we really dream? That's one of his-"

"Can you just shut up about him now? You're gettin' on my nerves with all this Tommy rubbish."

"I'm getting on _your_ nerves? You've done nothing but rub salt into mine ever since we got in this damn van. And get your flippin' feet off of me!"

Howard grabbed one of Vince's sock-clad feet, throwing it up into the air and away from him. Vince glared at Howard as he pulled his knees up, back still leaning heavily against the door. Howard didn't trust the rusty thing to hold the child's weight, and horror scenarios played unbidden in his head. Images of the door giving way and Vince falling backward out of the vehicle only to get run over by the tires had Howard snapping at him once more.

"And sit correctly in your seat! Stop leanin' against the door for christ's sake!"

Vince shifted back into a proper sitting position. Silence was on them a third time, weighing down over Howard's shoulders thickly. He read his wristwatch again, and then reached down to grab the map. He handed it over to Vince, not wanting to take his eyes off the road.

"Can you tell me where we are exactly? And if there's a stop somewhere nearby."

Vince went a bit tense as he held the map in his hands, and Howard glanced at him in confusion. The boy's eyebrows were drawn together as his eyes moved about on the map, and after minutes of silence, Howard was growing impatient.

"Well? You know the name of the road we're on, right?"

"Yeah!"

Vince glared sideways at Howard once more, indignation clear in his tone.

"Well, do you see any markers indicating stops anywhere?"

"Umm...no. It just goes on for a while, curving around this foresty bit."

Howard sighed heavily, allowing his eyes to close for a moment in defeat. Vince suddenly perked up, leaning over the map to stare out ahead of them.

"Wait a minute! Look up ahead, there's a road!"

Howard leaned over the wheel, searching for what Vince saw. There was indeed a small dirt road leading into the trees. Howard didn't trust it. Vince began shifting about beside him, but Howard didn't bother to look over at him; the child had been fidgiting annoyingly the entire bleeding trip.

"No, Vince, we should keep to the trail the map is giving us. We'll just get lost otherwise."

"Well good thing there_ is _a path on the map, then. See?"

Howard looked briefly at the map, there was a indeed small red line cutting across the shaded aread indicating the forest. It led almost directly to their destination. Howard slowed the vehicle down, deliberating on whether or not to take the small road that lay before them now. His caution gave way to the painful growl his stomach let loose, and Howard turned left onto the trail before he could think better of it.

* * *

"Where the hell are we!?"

Vince didn't answer him, merely gazed at the map with a look that Howard didn't like. He looked entirely lost, and...was that guilt?

"Vince, let me see the map, maybe we missed a turn somewhere."

When the kid continued to stared dumbly down at the paper, Howard brought the car to a quick halt. Dusk was upon them; they had been driving for several hours, following the trail, which dwindled as they drove until eventually they were simply driving through forest, no road to be seen. Howard leant over and grabbed the map up from the kid, opening it and reading it for himself. His eyes followed the small red line as it flowed up and through the forest. There were no turns that they could've missed. In fact, the road was incredibly straight, no curves to be seen. In fact, when Howard looked at it closely, it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the map at all. That's when he saw, to his horror, several other red lines scrawled all over the map, each one connecting to existing roads, to create a sort of image of a cat's face. Howard looked up sharply at Vince, who sighed through his nose in defeat and held up a small red marker. Howard's stomach dropped. Vince was quick to come to his own defense, sitting up straight as he spoke.

"I noticed the path through the trees and knew you was gettin' hungry, so I figured it _had _to lead through the trees somehow! I didn't think it w-"

"No, Vince, you _didn't_ think, did you? You never do. And now we're hopelessly fucking lost in the middle of a jungle. It's getting dark, and we're nearly out of petrol. "

Howard firmly kept his voice low; he didn't want to agitate Ivan, who grunted restlessly in the back. Great; just fucking _peachy_. They were stranded in a jungle at night with a large bear. He wanted to reach over and pull that white scarf taught around the little blighter's neck. How did he ever imagine he could depend on the boy for anything? That's all their relationship was, really, Howard thought. Vince doing insane, stupid shit, and Howard chasing after him, taking care of him, keeping him out of trouble. And he was incredibly tired of it.

Looking again at the map, Howard figured that if they had been traveling as straight as Howard thought they'd been, they should be on the outer edge of the forest. Howard could continue on foot to a nearby road, which he would then follow to the sanctuary. He hoped. God he was hungry, and exhausted.

Vince seemed to hit the same thought as Howard. The boy turned to open his door, speaking over his shoulder.

"The road should be close, I'll just-"

"You'll stay right here."

"_Howard_, I want to help."

"I think you've help enough."

Vince didn't reply, just opened his door and dangled his legs over the seat. Howard reached toward him and pulled him back into the car by his jacket. Howard then turned off the engine and got out of his own door, walking quickly around to Vince's side. Vince sat with his knees up once more, facing Howard with a mixed glare. Howard leveled Vince with a glare of his own, closing the door with a slam.

"Stay _right here_, Vince. I'll be back with help. Hopefully with fuel for the van."

"Wait, you can't just leave me here! It's dark out, you can't be walkin' in the woods alone at night!"

"_Vince_, just stay put, alright? I'll be back before you know it."

With that Howard walked off determinedly in the direction that the car was pointing. He heard Vince behind him mumbling to himself, but carried forward into the thickening brush. Autumn had arrived quickly in this region, and the trees were mostly bare, leaves crunching endlessly underfoot. It created quite the eerie atmosphere as Howard wandered through the dark forest, light fading rapidly.

The story of the face-stealing monkeys came unbidden to Howard's aching mind, and the man fought down fear that prickled at the surface of his skin, causing gooseflesh to break out along his arms.

_'They're not real they don't exist the kid's barmy get a grip, Moon.'_

This endless mantra went on as Howard moved quickly under tree limbs and over bushes, interrupted occasionally as a distant noise caused him to jump, mind blanking briefly. He eventually resorted to mumbling to himself under his breath, needing some kind of sound in the blackness. Howard could hardly see in front of his nose, and time seemed to be crawling. Howard was certain he'd been wandering for days in that forest, and didn't fully register that he'd burst from the wood edge and onto a road until he was standing in the middle of it. When he did, Howard resisted the urge to drop onto all fours and kiss the black pathway to civilization.

Instead he turned sharply left, where a dim glow could be seen far off, and jogged tiredly for another eternity. When he reached the source of the light, Howard found that it was the front sign to the bear sanctuary. There was indeed a God, Howard thought happily to himself, breathing raggedly as he walked past the sign and toward the front doors of the building.

Pounding on the doors for fifteen minutes finally earned Howard the sound of keys jangling behind it. A woman opened one of the doors, peering cautiously out into the dark. Spotting Howard, she nodded toward him.

"Who're you?"

"Uh, Howard Moon, senior zookeeper at the Zooniverse. I was, uh, scheduled to drop off a Russian bear here tonight."

"Ah yes. We expected you _hours _ago. Thought something had come up. Come in, come in."

Howard gratefully stepped in through the open door, letting the woman lead him down a short hallway and into an office, where he collapsed into the nearest chair. The woman gave him a polite smile, though she did seem a bit taken back. Looking down at himself, Howard realised that it was quite obvious he'd been scrounging through the forest all night. A quick look at his watch told Howard that he'd been in that forest for five hours. His throat tightened.

"So, where is the transport car? We'll need to get...Ivan, is it? We'll need to get him situated into his new habitat immediately."

"...Um, actually, that's what I wanted your help with. You see, the van is stuck in the forest. I'm not completely sure _where_, but the bear's secured in there, as well as my...fellow zookeeper."

Now the woman looked incredibly worried, and motioned for Howard to hold on a moment as she picked up a phone from the desk and quickly dialed in a number. Howard couldn't help but tune out her conversation as concern over Vince mounted. What if the bear had gotten out? What if some rabid forest animals caught wind that there was a kid in their territory, alone and undefended. Howard had been incredibly angry when he'd told Vince to stay behind. He'd just wanted a moment's peace from the damn boy. Now he wished he'd tied the kid to him with the scarf.

The woman hung up, walking back out of the office and toward the front doors. Howard rose and quickly followed.

"The authorities are on their way. Shouldn't be long; their station isn't too far off. They're bringing along guns, just in case. Don't worry."

She tacked on that last bit with a hand on Howard's shoulder, and the man realised how tense he must look. He tried relaxing, but worry was quickly closing it's trap over his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He paced slightly as they stood just outside the building, and within ten minutes the driveway was filled with police cars. Howard kept immersing himself in his own worried thoughts, scenarios and what-ifs playing across his eyes. Before he realised it, he was in the passenger seat of a police vehicle, with many more behind them, and he was directing the driver to where he'd emerged from the woods.

The trees were too thick for the vehicles to get through very far, so the men and women gathered in a loose crowd, Howard at the lead, and delved into the forest. Howard tried his best to follow the exact path he'd taken before, and after several more hours, caught sight of the van. Relief chased away his exhaustion, and Howard found himself rushing toward the vehicle, light bleeding down through the tall branches as morning arrived.

The officers were close behind, moving around the van to make certain that the bear was still contained. Howard went directly for the passenger door. Flinging it open, Howard was met with an empty seat containing only a long white scarf. Howard's mind blanked. He really should've seen this coming. It wasn't as if the child had ever listened to him before, so why would he start now, when they were in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Swearing loudly, Howard slammed the door shut. The surrounding people observed him in silence, knowing that they now had a missing person on their hands. Howard kicked a fallen branch as hard as he could, yelling Vince's name in between curses. After calming down a little, Howard gave a description of Vince to the officers, who then split off in search. The woman and a few others remained with the car, and Howard didn't bother to stick around to hear how they planned on getting the van to the facility. Mutely, Howard dove into the brush himself, hearing the sounds of police officers calling Vince's name all around him. The sun was rising quickly, and Howard found himself trying to count how long he's been away from the kid.

Howard's legs suddenly began running, and his brain took a second to catch up. He was shouting Vince's name, the officers' own calls now distant as Howard covered ground. When he found the kid, Howard wasn't sure whether he was going to hit him or hug him. Probably a strange combination of both.

_'The boy can't've gone far. He knew to stay near the van. He knew I'd skin him alive if he wandered off on his own. He's somewhere nearby, I know it.'_

Aching lungs caused the panting man to finally halt his mad dash. He looked at his wristwatch, and saw to his disbelief that nearly an hour had passed since reaching the van. How was time suddenly traveling so fast!? Was he dreaming? It felt like he was.

Looking around him, Howard listened for the sounds of the officers. Hearing nothing, Howard felt panic begin to seep in through his skull. He screamed Vince's name as loudly as his gasping lungs would allow, no longer caring if anyone knew how terrified he was. Vince was missing. For all Howard knew, something terrible could've happened to him the second Howard was out of earshot.

The man spun around in place, searching in every direction for some sign of the boy. Hope flared in Howard's chest when he spotted movement, only to deflate just as quickly when he saw that it was only two officers, approaching him with grim faces.

_'Oh god.'_

Howard steeled himself for whatever horrific news these men were about to give him. That Vince was dead; that he'd been found mangled or dismembered somewhere in a shallow pond. Howard stopped breathing as they came to stand before him.

"Uh sir, we can't seem to find the boy anywhere. We're going to need to head back to the station and organise a larger search party."

Howard was caught between thanking the heavens that Vince hadn't been found dead, and refusing to waste one minute while the kid was still out there somewhere. He tugged slightly away as one of the officers clasped his arm, and both men fixed him with a look of sympathy as they grasped him by the shoulders and led him back the way they'd come.

The journey out of the forest and to the police station was a blur for Howard, vaguely aware of being sat down on a sofa as people moved about, speaking into phones, moving brusquely from room to room. Howard caught Vince's name being said a few times; no doubt the officers were getting out a description of the boy for everyone in the countryside to hear. A search party was being gathered, and Howard was told they'd be ready to comb the forest by midday.

Midday. That was so far away. Vince could be dead by then. Or was dead, already, while Howard had been trudging angrily through the dark forest, leaving the kid on his own.

Hug him, Howard decided. He wasn't going to hit the kid when he found him. He'd hug him, and then he'd hit himself. So many hours. How had so many hours passed between him ordering Vince to remain in the van and Howard returning only to find it empty? It didn't make a single bit of sense in the man's fogged brain. It was all his fault.

Howard sat and stewed in his self-deprecating thoughts, only surfacing long enough to make a quick phone call to the Zooniverse office, where he spoke with Fossil in a low monotone, uncaring of the blue-shirted man's repeated insults when hearing of how Howard had lost Vince. The man then said something about sending Naboo over to help out or pick him up, or something like that. Howard didn't really bother to listen, and when he hung up he was fairly sure he hadn't even finished his conversation.

Quietly, he sat back down in his seat and put his head in his hands.

* * *

The search party had been organised and dispersed into the forest around three hours ago, and no news of Vince had arrived. Howard felt as if small black holes were appearing just under his skin, growing and rotting as time passed, until he wanted nothing more than to take a long hot shower and lay down somewhere. Maybe if he slept he'd awake to find that this was all just a nightmare.

All of a sudden, one officer's voice rose above the others as he spoke over a phone. Everyone in the room stilled, and Howard's head snapped up from where he'd been staring down at his lap. The officer on the phone seemed relieved, and after hanging up, faced the room. Howard focused intently on what the man said, caught between hope and horror at what news he was about to receive.

"A petrol station down south just phoned. Apparently they found a boy matching Vince Noir's description. Says the kid just came wandering up the road, looking like he was in a trance. He hasn't responded to any questions, but the person's sure that it's him."

Howard rocketed to his feet, and would've ran for the door if common sense hadn't frozen him in place. He didn't even know where this building was, and the van was back at the sanctuary. He did follow very closely behind the two officers who were told to head for the station to retrieve the boy. Howard sat in the back seat of the car as the two got in and began driving. They weren't going nearly as fast as Howard wanted, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming at them to speed up. The drive took almost thirty minutes, and a part of Howard marveled at how much ground the boy must've covered in the nineteen hours he was gone. Nineteen hours. Howard's eyes felt scratchy, and the man pushed his fingers into them hard enough to hurt as they neared the petrol station.

The car pulled up over gravel, and Howard was out the door before it fully stopped. He tripped slightly over his feet as he ran toward the station. Bursting in through the door, Howard's eyes swiveled about the room, landing as though magnetised on Vince, who sat on a stool in front of a counter, not facing Howard.

The officers entered a second after Howard, and one raised his voice to the kid, who turned to look at them. "Vince Noir?"

Vince didn't answer. His eyes met Howard's, and the older man needn't have thought about hugging the teen, as Vince toppled the stool in his haste to collide into Howard's chest. The man noticed that Vince looked worse than himself, covered in dirt and twigs and sweat, with small bloody scratches scattering down the sides of his face. The boy was saying something rapidly into Howard's shirt, and he pulled Vince back to hear him.

"You're alive! You got out you escaped-"

"Woah woah, hold on, Vince. Escaped? Escaped what?"

"The box! He had you in a box an' he said he was gonna chop you up an' feed you to his animals and I tried to get you out but couldn't and he almost got me as well but I outran 'im an-"

"Alright calm down, Vince, breathe."

Vince took in rapid, shallow breathes, and Howard worried at the frantic look in his eyes, as well as the fact that he kept looking about the room and at the people, as though he'd never really _seen_ people before.

The officer who'd spoken up before stepped into Vince's field of vision, raising his arms in a pacifying gesture when Vince tensed visibly, his hands digging painfully into Howard's chest.

"Mr. Moon, we need to get back to the station. If you'll..."

He gestured toward Vince, and Howard nodded, moving his hands from their place on the kid's back to grip his arms and pull him gently forward. He then led the kid out the door and to the car, where he sat them both down in the backseat. He didn't protest as he normally would have when Vince kept himself plastered to Howard's side. The exhausted, but very happy man looked down at the teen beside him. He felt beyond elated to have Vince alive and well next to him; but that dizzy relief was dimmed incredibly as Howard watched Vince stare mutely at the back of the front seats, and Howard remembered the officer saying how the petrol station owner claimed Vince had looked as if he were in a trance. He looked that way now, and Howard nudged his shoulder slightly to get him to look up, asking the first question out of dozens that came to mind.

"What do you mean, I was put in a box, Vince?"

"You was in a box; he put you in a box. Said he was gonna-"

"Vince, people can't be put into boxes."

"Yes they can."

The utterly solemn and serious tone with which those three words were said had Howard more than a bit frightened. Vince seemed incredibly off, and Howard was determined to question the hell out of him, and if the boy even _dared_ clamming up-

"Alright so who had me in a box? Who was gonna, uh, chop me up?"

Vince was still looking up at Howard, but his eyes indicated he was seeing something far off, his voice dropped to a near mumble.

"He recognised me. I thought he'd forgot about me, but he recognised me."

"Who forgot about you, Vince?"

"No. No, he didn't forget me. I thought he did."

"_Who _are you talking about, Vince?"

"They've grown. Didn't think they would, bein' dead an' all. He remembered me, soon as he saw me."

"Alright Vince, you're making _no_ sense-"

"He's exactly the same. I really thought he'd forgotten me, but he didn't."

It was clear he wasn't talking to Howard anymore, and the two officers were glancing back at them and at eachother as they pulled into the police station. Howard led an alarmingly pliant Vince into the building, where he sat them both down onto the lobby sofa. Many officers were gathered around at a distance, but Howard paid them no mind as Vince began to speak quietly, looking again at Howard.

"Thought he could catch me, but I was too fast. His back gave out on 'im, stupid old git...Sorry for leavin' you in there, Howard. I tried to help, I swear! I'm a right coward..."

"It's alright, Vince. It's all over now. We're going back to the sanctuary, and we're getting into that ruddy old van, and we're driving home, got it?"

Vince stared at Howard blankly for a few seconds, before a small smile formed over his pale face.

"Got it."

* * *

Officers tried repeatedly to question Vince, but the boy barely acknowledged their presence, and jerked away quickly when one moved too close. Eventually they all just gave up and helped Howard with getting fuel for the van, which the man was grateful for.

They were both seen to by medical staff in the police station as well, which was a long and grueling process as Vince proceeded to freak the fuck out when he found himself surrounded by strangers with water and bandages. They'd quickly given up and let Howard see to getting Vince situated into clean clothes that the police had had on hand; they were a few of the female officers' so were thankfully not too large for the kid. Vince just sat staring blankly down at the foreign clothes as Howard scrubbed dirt off the kid's face and then his own, breathing a sigh of relief as the sweat and grime was washed away. The boy didn't even flinch as Howard saw to the many small cuts and scrapes across the boy's face, not bothering to answer Howard's repeated question as to what had caused them.

They rode in another police vehicle toward the sanctuary; Howard keeping an eye on the still too silent Vince. It was almost as if the boy had become feral or something. Howard resolved to just question him when they got home. The familiar surroundings would calm the boy down, surely.

* * *

Howard opened the passenger door and stood back to allow Vince to climb in. The boy seemed more aware now that they were standing outside the sanctuary, but was still staring at the ground quietly. Howard lightly pushed his shoulder to get him to move forward, when Vince's head shot up.

"Can I drive?"

Startled by the question Howard had never expected to hear from _Vince _of all people, Howard stood mutely for a moment before nodding slowly. Vince held his hand out, face still blank, and Howard handed him the car keys without really thinking the decision through. By the time he did, he was already in the passenger seat and Vince was pressing down on the accelerator, sending them jerking out onto the road. Howard winced, glad that the cops had left already.

Vince drove as someone high on caffeine and late to their job. His fingers twitched and drummed on the steering wheel, his unused leg swinging. The foot pressing down on the acceleration alternated between letting off completely and practically flooring the peddle. He could barely see over the front of the van, and his head leant slightly forward. Howard noticed that his eyes kept darting about either side of the road, lingering an extra second on the line of trees. They didn't run into any police cars the entire trip back to the zoo, which was a blessing since Vince was determined to speed well over the limit as though they were being chased, despite Howard's repeated demands that he slow down.

When they finally did reach the Zooniverse gates, Vince shut the engine off and hopped out of the vehicle, throwing the keys to Graham before walking toward the Lodge. It was late afternoon, and the zoo was closed down for the evening. Howard wanted to go and check up on his and Vince's animals, to make sure Fossil hadn't been lying when he said he's have the other keepers tend to them, but instead he found himself following Vince back to the hut.

Once inside, Vince immediately went for his sleeping bag, kicking his boots off and pulling the duvet up and over his entire body. Howard, feeling beyond tired himself, took his own shoes and jacket off, putting them in their respectful places. The man stood beside the beds, looking down on the tuft of blond hair peeking out.

"Vince, are you sure you're alright?"

The kid hummed wordlessly up at him, and Howard decided to just keep an ear out for him. He was afraid that if he pressed the matter, it would cause the kid to snap, which might result in an argument. Arguing was what nearly cost him the kid. Howard still felt his hands go shaky at the thought of what might've been. There really truly must be some kind of god, because Howard knew he certainly did _not_ possess this amount of natural luck.

He silently crawled under his own duvet, adjusting his pillow and staring up at the ceiling. A few seconds of silence was halted by a heavy dragging sound, and Howard quickly looked over to find Vince a bit closer to him. Smiling in the darkness, Howard went back to mutely watching the hut ceiling and listening as the sound came again and again, the boy moving himself and his sleeping bag nearer to Howard's. He didn't say a word, even when the teen was right next to him, burrowing into the man's side and laying arm tentatively over his stomach. Howard slowly moved his own arm underneath boy's head, a sort of fleshy pillow, hand coming down to brush against his back, and Vince finally seemed to relax.

Whatever the hell had happened to Vince in those woods, be they partially real or just completely in his own head, Howard knew that they'd shaken the boy considerably. For now, he was just glad they were back home and in one piece. With that, Howard drifted off, silence thick in the air.

(Woo! I think this extra long and tense chapter deserves a review, don't you?)


	29. Chapter 29

SANDPEOPLENOISES: Y'all gonna shit yourselves. That is all. (Oh and a big thanks to my loyal reviewer. You know who you are.)

Chapter 29

Howard returned from the kitchen with a mug of tea in his grasp. The windows were open, letting in the refreshing autumn air. Howard breathed it in deeply as he looked over at Vince, the tv buzzing in the background. It had been over a week since the incident with Vince getting lost, and the boy was now much quieter than Howard had ever seen him. He hardly said a word anymore, just scribbled away in his book, which was already over halfway filled. Every time Howard leaned over to get a peek, Vince would close the book and move away from him. This left Howard worried, curious, and a little hurt.

"So...what're you writing? More Charlie adventures?"

"I don't write about Charlie no more."

Howard was surprised by this, even if he was secretly relieved. Vince loved Charlie; had claimed he and the pink blob were best mates. Had scared the pants off of Howard many a night with his "Charlie likes to watch you sleep" schtick. Howard sipped his tea, keeping his tone light as he stared unseeing at the television screen.

"Oh? How come? You and Charlie having a row or something?"

"Sort of. He's been...different, lately."

"Different how?"

Vince didn't elaborate, just resumed his writing. Howard _did_ catch a quick glimpse of the paper as he stood to head back into the kitchen, minutes later. It wasn't writing, as Howard had thought. No, Vince seemed to be drawing. It was very sketchy and scribbled, lines overlapping too many times. If it weren't for the numerous pictures of Charlie that had once adorned their walls (Vince had taken them down two days ago) Howard might not have recognised the drawing.

* * *

Howard paced back and forth in the hut, counting down the minutes until Tristan would arrive to pick him up. It was incredibly humiliating for Howard to be the one picked up on the first date, but Tristan had laughed off his apologies, claiming not to mind in the least. Vince wasn't in the hut; Howard had last seen him an hour ago in Bollo's enclosure, spending time with the old ape. His health was declining rapidly, his eyesight now leaving him. Howard felt bad for the poor old gorilla, and even more so for Vince, who seemed not to believe that the aged primate was on his way out. Howard had tried to explain it very carefully to the boy, telling Vince to spend as much time as he wanted with Bollo, and to cherish all the happy memories he had with him.

_"_Because they can't take those moments away from you_,"_ he had said.

Vince had just stared blankly up at the man until Howard raised his hands in defeat and walked off to prepare for his date. He was nervous about leaving Vince alone, remembering vividly the disasters that had taken place the last times he'd left the teen unattended. It was becoming quite a talent of the boy's; wait until Howard goes away and then cause some kind of destruction. So Howard had given the Lodge phone number to Mrs Gideon, asking her to call every now and again to check up on the boy. Gideon had agreed, giving Howard a fond smile.

Hearing a knock at the door, Howard nearly tripped over himself walking to it. He opened the door with a wide smile, taking in the lovely sight of Tristan in a pair of tight jeans and a flowing blue top.

"So, you ready?"

Howard grinned, mumbling out a response as he followed her outside and into her slightly dented black Visa. Howard was quite relieved to note that Tristan seemed as nervous as he was. It took her three attempts to successfully start the engine and put the car in drive. Maybe she was just clumsy. Not that Howard minded in the least.

As the distance between Howard and the zoo gates increased, the man couldn't help but glance back and hope that the kid didn't forget himself and stay with Bollo into the night.

* * *

"So, tell me a bit more about yourself."

"Well, what's there to tell...um, you know I work at the Zooniverse. And, uh...there's really nothing else to me."

Tristan laughed, the two of them sitting in a cozy, bright cafe. Howard was rather glad for the change in environment. He'd seen far too many fine restaurants and posh theatres lately.

"Oh come on now, I know there's lots more about you. Like the fact that you're a talented guitarist. _And _you have a beautiful singing voice, and a creativity to match. And you're a dad."

Howard had been steadily growing a blush over the back of his neck, and on that last sentence of Tristan's he choked on his coffee. His initial instinct to correct the woman yet again was halted, and instead Howard found different words leaving his mouth as he wiped it with a serviette.

"Don't know if I'm much of one. All that boy's gotten into is trouble, again and again. You know what he did at his birthday party earlier this year? He got a load of his little school friends, and they all got pissed and dismantled my house."

Tristan's eyebrows rose, a patient smile still gracing her lips as she listened, and a part of Howard's mind knew he probably shouldn't be airing these personal details like this. But it was so nice, _so nice_, to be able to vent his long-carried frustrations at someone whom he didn't have to see at work every day. And Tristan seemed so understanding, lightly patting Howard's hand, listening with attentive silence as more flooded from the man before he could really stop himself.

"A-and then there was the time he scared the living life out of me. Went out partying with Naboo, this seedy little shaman at our work, and I wake up in the early hours to find the kid passed out on my floor! And if I thought _that_ was the scariest moment of my life, it was _nothing _compared to three weeks ago when I lost him in a sodding forest...I tell you, Ms Butler, that kid is determined to kill me through fright and worry alone, I swear it."

Tristan regarded him for a few minutes, and Howard was too winded to really bother worrying what she must think of him. Eventually her smile returned, as well as her hand over his, where it lay, warmth seeping through her glove and into his.

"You know what I think, Howard? I think you're an amazing person. And I think that this boy is very lucky to have someone like you watching over him."

Those words brought more reassurance to Howard's tired mind than he wanted to admit. He supposed he had needed to hear those words from a third-party member, and not just from his own brain.

* * *

Mrs. Gideon surprised Howard by walking up to him as he was on his way to the Lodge, lunch hour upon them. She smiled at Howard, but the man noticed her face seemed tense. She looked unsure of what to say, so Howard started the conversation.

"Hello, Mrs Gideon, what's wrong?"

"...It's Vince. I think there might be something the matter with him."

"What do you mean? I only saw him a few hours ago. Has something happened?"

"No no, nothing like that. It's just...well, when you asked me to call Vince last night, during your date...I _did_ call, and Vince picked up the phone. He seemed to be talking with someone just as he answered; I couldn't make out the end of the sentence. And when he heard that it was my voice, he just went quiet. He didn't answer me for several minutes, and then he just hung up! I was worried, so I called back many times, but he never answered again. Was anything wrong when you got back home?"

"No. No, he was fast asleep. Snoring and everything..."

Howard parted ways with Gideon, pondering heavily over what could've been occupying Vince to the point where he'd refuse to answer the phone? Maybe the teen had snuck a friend in while Howard was out, or maybe he'd let in another damn animal. Howard had already caught the boy with a raccoon and then a bat before. The damn raccoon had bitten Howard and the bat had gotten itself tangled in Vince's hair. The boy had almost gone into a fit when Howard teased him about getting it cut.

Once he had his lunch in hand, Howard broke into a quick jog over to their bench, where he found the boy without any food for the eighth day in a row. Frowning, the man sat down, poking the teenager in the shoulder to get his attention. He was still quite introverted, and that had Howard observing him closer than usual. He held up a half of his sandwich he'd made that morning. Vince gave it a glance before shaking his head mutely.

"Take it. C'mon now, Vince, I mean it."

The boy sighed, and grudgingly took the sandwich, taking a small bite every few minutes. Howard was having none of it, and made them both stay on the bench until the kid finished the whole thing off, taking much longer than was necessary, in Howard's opinion. He laid a hand over the boy's forehead, feeling for any sign of a fever. Nothing.

Vince leant out of his touch and went back to staring off in a random direction silently. The two didn't bother walking around, or saying a word.

* * *

Howard entered the hut, only to freeze in his tracks. There sitting in a corner was Bollo. The gorilla was in Howard's house. The goddamn gorilla was sitting in Howard's house, beside a guilty-looking Vince.

"_Vince_-"

"Shh! Please, Howard! Naboo told me he heard Bainbridge tellin' Fossil to 'ave Bollo put down! We have to hide him here, please!"

Howard hadn't moved from the doorway, body rigid in fright. The gorilla was out of his cage. He was loose. Once he got wind of the men in this zoo, namely Howard, he'd go on a rampage.

"Vince, that is _not_ a cat. It is a very large gorilla, who is going blind as well as deaf. He hates men with a passion, now _put. Him. Back_!"

"No!"

"Then I'll just go and find Fossil."

"Please, Howard, I'll hide him in the bathroom. He won't go nowhere near you. And when you need in there you just get me, and I'll bring 'im out here. See, it'll be easy! Look, he's not even bein' aggressive at you."

It was true, Bollo very clearly was aware of Howard, and yet sat completely docile at Vince's side. Howard supposed it was the fact that he couldn't see as well anymore. Cautiously, Howard took a few steps forward, ready to bolt at the slightest sudden move. Bollo sniffed the air, looked in Howard's direction, and went back to fiddling with the chains on Vince's jacket, as he always did. Howard let out a slow breath, deciding to just leave them both be for the night, and get Fossil in the morning. Besides, Howard hadn't seen Vince this aware and lively in too long, and if that meant sleeping with a gorilla locked in the toilet, well then...just call Howard desperate.

Something about having a man-loathing gorilla in the Lodge kept Howard awake into the early hours of morning, even as the snores of both Vince and the ape filled the air. Howard finally dozed off, and awoke later to the sounds of feet moving across the floor. Turning over, he watched Vince go into the bathroom, where Howard could hear him speaking quietly to Bollo. Howard was incredibly surprised at how completely obedient and calm the ape behaved. The next morning Howard ordered Vince to return Bollo to his exhibit, promising the boy that he'd go to Fossil and find out if the ape really was going to be put down.

* * *

"Mr. Fossil, could I have a word?"

Bob nodded at Howard, who then fully entered the room. The two men stared in silence for a few moments before Howard found the right words.

"Um, I ah, heard that you planned on having Bollo put to sleep. Is this true?"

"Yeah. Look, I know it's sad and all that crap, but the guy's old. _Really_ old. And old things don't bring in customers. So next Sunday he's gettin' the shot."

"...Oh. I see. Good day, then, Fossil."

"Yeah, yeah."

Howard left the building and spent the entire time before lunch deliberating over how to break the news to Vince. By the time he had his lunch and was sitting down beside the teenager, Howard had made his mind up. He looked over at the kid, who he noted with worry didn't have anything to eat, again.

"Spoke with Fossil earlier."

Vince straightened at this, face and voice both anxious.

"And?"

Howard cleared his throat to give himself a moment, then looked Vince directly in the eyes, and lied to him.

"He said Naboo must've heard wrong. Bollo's not going to be put down. Fossil was just joking about it, is all. You know Fossil's sick sense of humor..."

Vince was visibly relieved, and let out a long breath. That's when Howard caught the smell of smoke lingering on the kid. Bloody hell, the boy had been smoking again. The entire rest of the free hour comprised of Howard once again drilling threats and orders into the boy's head. Vince didn't even bother smiling this time; not even a smirk. Howard eventually trailed off into worried silence once more.

* * *

Tristan surprised Howard the next day by showing up at lunch hour with food of her own. She treated the whole affair like a picnic, draping a light red blanket across the ground in front of the bench. Howard gladly joined her in sitting down upon it. He beckoned Vince to sit with them as well, but the boy remained in his spot above them on the bench, knees drawn up and no food to be seen. Again. Howard put this thought aside for now and gestured between Vince and Tristan, realising they had never been properly introduced.

"Uh, Vince, this is Tristan. Tristan, Vince."

Tristan smiled up at Vince, who was mutely picking at his jacket sleeve. Suddenly, the woman's eyes brightened in recognition.

"Oh! So _you're_ Howard's kid. I remember you from the restaurant that night. How old are you, Vince?"

Both males' heads swung to face Tristan when she'd called Vince Howard's kid, and Howard felt himself blush horribly. He also couldn't help but feel the slight happy tingle run over him every time someone called Vince _his_ kid, as many of the zoo staff were doing more and more. Vince didn't seem to share in the happy tingle. He simply tilted his head slightly at Tristan.

"I'm twenty-six."

Howard sighed into his thermos, while Tristan smiled, obviously not buying Vince's false age. Howard shot a reprimanding look the kid's way. Why'd he always insist on telling everyone he was Howard's age!?

"Vince, we've been through this a thousand times. You can't go telling _everyone _you're my age. _I'm _twenty-six, _you're_ sixteen."

"We're the same age."

"Vince-"

"No no, it's alright. He's just having a little fun with his imagination, right? No harm in that."

Howard was relieved that Tristan had taken Vince's embarrassing weirdness in stride, smiling at her as she spoke. The two of them proceeded to talk the hour away, and before leaving Tristan placed a quick kiss on Howard's cheek with an invitation to go on a date that coming Saturday. Grinning like a fool, Howard looked up toward the bench, finding it empty.

* * *

Saturday came upon Howard fast; much too fast. He wasn't ready for this. A second date was far more significant than the first, in Howard's opinion. It meant that you hadn't completely botched the first attempt, and was rewarded with a second try. And a second try meant that you had to try harder not to ruin the date. And Howard _did _try hard, or tried to try.

Truth be told, the man's mind was escaping him throughout the entire dinner. He just couldn't stop worrying over Vince. The boy was still in his own little bubble, barely acknowledging Howard anymore, spending all of his free time with Bollo. He didn't even show up at their bench for lunch the rest of the week, and Howard spent the three days before Saturday standing by the ape enclosure, watching the boy as he spoke with the old primate.

Trying desperately to spark up a conversation, Howard had asked the boy what he and Bollo were talking about so often. The teen had spouted some abstract nonsense involving a banana horse, and Howard had given up.

Tristan was nothing but patient and understanding during the entire dinner, brushing off Howard's repeated apologies every time he was found to not be listening to her or failed to answer a question.

_'I really don't deserve to be on a date with a woman this wonderful. God I wish Vince would just tell me what's wrong already! First thing I'm doing when I get home tonight is cornering that little bastard until he talks.'_

"-Howard? Howard?"

The man's head snapped up from where he'd been staring down at his half-eaten plate. Tristan once again was smiling across from him.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry again, Ms Butler."

"Howard, I've told you. Just call me Tristan, please...hey, why don't we go?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean to ruin your night-"

"You haven't, we'll go back to my apartment and have some tea, alright?"

Howard had to admit, maybe a quiet environment would help to still his tossing and turning mind. The man nodded, and paid for their food before the two of them hopped back into Tristan's car and made for her house. It was only a ten minute drive before they pulled into a small tower block. Tristan showed Howard up to the first floor, where her flat was.

It was every bit as small as the woman had described, and Howard could see that she was slightly embarrassed at having him see it. It was cozy, though. Soft and inviting with a few old university texts cluttered on a small table. Tristan hastily moved about the room, stuffing undergarments into dressers as discreetly as possibly, stacking her books on top of each other and turning a nervous grin Howard's way.

The man gave her a reassuring smile in return, and soon the two were sat on her small sofa in front of her tiny television, warm cups in hand. How that led to snogging Howard wasn't entirely certain, but he didn't dare argue with his good fortune as their cups sloshed as they were set hastily on the floor. When kissing advanced into Tristan pushing Howard onto his back was when he felt the first spikes of nerves racing up his arms. His mind wasn't mush, like it was whenever he'd visualised such moments of romance. No, it sped up, thought strings becoming a whirlwind in his head, making it spin relentlessly. What he could make out clearly was something along the lines of _'Holy fuck is this happening shit she's so pretty christ I can't do this don't stop!' _and Howard's breath increased to match as he felt small fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, lips still firmly moving against his own.

Howard let out a string of humiliating mumbles and moans that thankfully Tristan didn't stop to translate. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, and Howard was without a shirt before he could fully register what was going on. Tristan had removed hers as well, and the man felt quite like a two-year-old when his eyes fixed themselves on the far wall. He felt rather than heard Tristan laugh against him, trailing kisses along his jaw. How could such a simple thing feel like fire, he wondered.

_'But this is only our second date isn't this not right I really shouldn't be oh wow she's lovely shit that feels nice wait stop she'll know I won't be any good damn fuck shit!'_

A sudden rush of cold chilled Howard's front, and he looked up to see Tristan standing beside the couch, removing the rest of her clothing. Now he couldn't move his eyes off her. He felt like such a bloody pervert, but it must've been alright because Tristan was once again on top of him, kissing him insistently. Feeling her hands over his own, Howard allowed Tristan to guide them up and onto her breasts. Howard left them frozen there, afraid to move them but also afraid to take them away. He felt he _had_ to tell Tristan, to let her know that he was really no good at this.

"Um, Tristan, um. I'm- I mean I'm...I've never done this before."

Tristan paused, lifting her head to look down at him. Howard braced himself for taunts, laughing and/or rejection. What he got was a wet kiss on the cheek and a sharp poke on the arm.

"Oh Howard! I don't give a shit! Now are you gonna lie there like a statue or are we gonna shag?"

The abruptness of her words had Howard feeling both terrified and elated. He didn't have long to bask in this feeling of acceptance, because Tristan promptly unbuttoned his trousers and began yanking them and his pants down around his ankles. Howard immediately scrambled up, bringing his knees close before he could get a handle on himself. Tristan regarded him for several moments before sighing.

"Howard if you don't wanna do this, we don't have to."

Howard wanted to say yes. He dearly wanted to say yes, leave, and pretend this never happened. But he _didn't_ want to pretend this wasn't happening. _This was happening_! He was finally with a beautiful woman who fancied him, and they were fucking going to _have sex for christ's sake!_

"N-no, it's fine. I'm just uh, just nervous."

"Well that's alright."

Tristan smiled at Howard, and began slowly inching back over to him, until they were sitting side by side. She then leant up against him, head laying on his shoulder. The sight reminded Howard of how Vince was always cuddling up against him, and Howard sharply threw that line of thought out of his head before it caused him to loose the mood completely. It was almost comfortable, sitting like this, tv still humming, despite the fact that they were both stark naked.

Soon Howard was coaxed back into kissing, and this time Tristan grabbed him by the shoulders until she was the one on the cushions, Howard hovering nervously above her. He was afraid to put his hands on her; afraid of what might hurt her. He really didn't want to fuck things up.

Tristan once again guided his hands, leading one to rest on her stomach and the other on the sofa for support. Howard was becoming quite confident and comfortable in their new position, right up until Ms Butler dove a hand of her own down between them and grasped Howard's half-hard penis firmly. He wasn't proud of the girly yelp, or the fact that Tristan burst into a fit of laughter for over a minute.

Finally catching her breath, Tristan proceeded to steal Howard's away from him with the small but oh so delightful movements of her hand. Howard's eyes closed and he didn't even want to think about the weird faces he must be pulling. Of course he only lasted a few more seconds before coming all over Tristan's hand and abdomen.

Face aflame, Howard sat up on his knees, Tristan following suit.

"I'm sorry, I uh-"

"It's alright, Howard. It's to be expected, really. If you'd've lasted any longer than that I'd have called you a liar about the whole virgin thing."

"...Really?"

"Really, now get over here."

Tristan dragged Howard over to her bed, where she practically threw him onto his back, hips aligning with Howard's as she ground down onto him. The man didn't think it was possible but he felt himself becoming hard again, and Tristan dove to steal quick kisses in between heated thrusts. Howard could feel his spunk smearing between them, and tried not to demand a shower.

Suddenly Tristan stopped, and Howard couldn't help but buck upward to try and achieve that unbelievable friction. Shifting higher onto her knees, Tristan adjusted her hips a bit, one hand reaching down to grasp Howard's penis again. When Howard felt the first touches of wet warmth against the head he gulped in a deep breath, as though he were being submerged entirely in the ocean.

His breath then immediately left him as it was forced from his lungs by the incredible sensation. Tristan sat completely still for a few seconds, and Howard's hands found her waist on instinct, gripping tightly and pulling her forward a bit. She let out a breathy moan to match Howard's and began to slowly rock back and forth, hips rising and falling ever so slightly.

Her nails were digging painfully into Howard's chest, but he didn't bother to consider it as his head dug back into the pillow beneath him, knees coming up slightly as their pace quickened.

Once again, Howard came within minutes, and Tristan lifted up off of him with a sigh and lay down on the bed. Howard felt utterly terrible, and made to apologise once again. Tristan put a hand over his mouth (thankfully not the one with the remnants of spunk).

"Howard, shut up. You're marvelous. And trust me, I'm not gonna let you quit 'til I'm done with you."

Feeling sparks of lust run over his skin, Howard returned Tristan's smirk with a grin and decided to make the first move this time. He wrapped his arms around her back and kissed her long and hard, moving to trail his lips down her neck and freckling over her shoulders.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Howard blearily beheld a sleeping Tristan. The night had indeed been long, and now it was two hours past midnight.

The two of them were lying in bed, duvet crumpled on the floor, sheet draped over them for light warmth in the heated air. Howard was just about to fall asleep himself when he suddenly rocketed into a sitting position.

'_Vince_!'

Oh no. He wasn't supposed to go to Tristan's flat! He was supposed to be home! Howard quickly rose from the bed, trying to be quiet, and searched about in the darkness for a phone.

He finally found one on the kitchen wall, and hastily dialed the number for the Lodge. As the phone rang and rang Howard stood in the silence, worry pulsing through him. And after nearly five minutes of no one answering, Howard relented with a great long sigh. The boy was doing exactly what Gideon had told him earlier that week. And he was probably angry that Howard hadn't returned when he'd said he would.

Resolving to apologise profusely in the morning, Howard crawled back under the light sheet, drifting in and out of sleep before eventually surrendering to blurred dreams.

* * *

Howard entered the Lodge as the sun began to rise. He felt incredibly guilty about leaving Vince alone all night. But then again, he _had _tried to call. And what a night. What a night.

Howard didn't bother turning on a light, not wanting to wake Vince just yet. There were still a few hours before they had to get ready for work. Howard shook off his shoes and padded over to the centre of the room, leaning over their sleeping bags in order to check on Vince. His hand reached out on its own accord, moving to rest where he imagined the boy's head would be. The blankets dipped under the weight of Howard's hand, and the man paused in confusion before pulling them back. Vince was nowhere to be seen. Howard immediately looked toward his own bed. Nothing. He swiveled in the darkness to peer over at the sofa. Barren.

Howard stepped toward the toilet door, opening it as worry seeped through his pores. He wasn't greeted with big blue eyes, but beady black ones, connected to a large hairy frame, and sharp yellowed teeth. Bollo was once again in their hut. Only this time, Howard was alone. And Bollo didn't seem at _all _docile.

Howard backed up slowly as the gorilla stared directly at him, teeth bared. Bollo suddenly leant forward, standing up to full height, head bumping the low ceiling. Instinct took over; Howard bolted. He made it as far as four strides before the gorilla was on him, flinging him this way and that in the kitchen. Howard heard the thundering of crockery and pots being strewn about, some making contact with him, leaving sharp stinging sensations across his body. He then felt himself being dragged along the floor by his right arm. His entire body was limp despite his mind's frantic red alerts for him to _get up! Get up and run!_

He was again being flung about like a ragdoll, this time in the main room. Howard could tell by his blurred visage of the sofa, and the sound of the tv shattering. Howard knew somewhere in his mind, distantly, that he was going to die now. He was going to be beaten to death by Bollo. And Vince would find him here, probably in pieces. His heart ached sharply, and then there was nothing.


	30. Chapter 30

ICALLITCHAVESE: Help me I've lost control. Seriously, I don't even control what these characters do anymore. They've cut their strings. That sex scene was...well, it's the kinda thing you write thinking "god I hope no one ever reads this" only to remember that the entire internet is gonna have access to it once you're finished. Aw well...

Also, since they're are only eight chapters left, you can leave me a story-based question in the reviews and I'll answer it, as long as it's not "How's this going to end" then I'll just stare blankly at the screen. But if you have something you wanna know about previous chapters or this one, or a thing you don't understand, feel free to just write it out in a review. Come on, you might be surprised by some of my answers ;)

Chapter 30

Lights. There were lights above him, and they burned. Howard squinted his eyes against them, though it did little to impede the sting. He couldn't see anything anyway.

There were noises as well; muffled sounds. People were yelling. Screaming. He heard a sharp clang of metal striking the floor, and images of Bollo's attack played unwanted across his vision.

He knew he was flailing, struggling now against strong hands that held him down, but he couldn't help it. His body was beyond his control, jerking about as his mind relived its last coherent memory.

Bollo had attacked him. He'd come home to find Bollo in his house. And Bollo had beaten him to death.

No, not to death. He was alive, wasn't he? Howard thought so. You didn't feel pain when you were dead, right? And he felt pain. Sharp pain burning up his sides and over his limbs and in his head that was suddenly going quiet.

The sounds were gone. The pain was going, too. And then the stinging light faded and Howard was left in blissful blackness.

* * *

The lights were back. But they didn't sting as horribly, and after a minute Howard found his vision adjusting. He looked around himself as much as he could without the use of his neck. He knew almost at once that he was in a hospital room. They were quite unmistakable, after all. He distantly noticed it was much larger than the one Vince had been confined to as a child. He could even see another empty bed beside him.

Howard was saved from trying to shout for attention as a doctor entered the room, flipping through a chart, reading glasses low on his nose. When he noticed Howard was awake he offered him a friendly smile.

"Hello there, Mr Moon. I see we're finally awake now. How're you feeling?"

"Um, a little confused. What's happened? I mean, I know what happened but...what happened."

The man smiled again, sitting down in a chair that Howard hadn't noticed was right by his bedside.

"You were in quite an accident, Howard. Apparently your zoo's gorilla escaped from his enclosure and attacked you. Do you remember that?"

"Yes, I do; I remember that."

"Hmm, and you were found later that morning by a Mr Joey Moose. Says he heard a ruckus going on inside your Lodge house and he found the gorilla in there with you. Well, naturally, Mr Moose called the authorities, and managed to pull you out of there while other keepers distracted the gorilla."

This information was making the room tilt, but Howard fought to stay aware, and nodded for the man to continue.

"You were immediately brought here and the gorilla was shot by officers. Now, you'll need to be here for about four weeks to give yourself time to recuperate. You're very fortunate, Mr Moon. That gorilla was quite old, and didn't have nearly as much strength as they normally do."

Howard thought the bloody beast had possessed enough strength.

"You'll walk out of here with no lasting damage. Your right arm is fractured in two places, and your head's got quite a gash. You've got a bruised cervical vertebrae as well. But other than that it's just a series of minor cuts and contusions. You _are _very lucky. I've seen a few animal encounters in my day, and believe me, they can get ugly."

Howard honestly didn't know what to say to any of this, and so let the doctor check him over and then leave in silence. It was only after he was gone that Howard thought to ask about the others. About the other keepers, about Joey, and about Vince. The doctor hadn't even mentioned him, and that brought a cold wave over Howard.

He wasn't even aware of how much time was passing. There was no clock on the walls, and every time Howard looked at his wrist, he found it bare, with only a tanline to stare back at him.

The door opened quietly, and Howard tried to turn his head to see. The neck brace was really starting to make him feel claustrophobic. Mrs Gideon walked over to his bedside, and Howard could see the worry written in her eyes. She sat in the chair, moving it closer and gently taking Howard's left hand between her own.

"The doctor said you had woken up. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, um, where is everyone? I mean, is Vince alright, is Joey-"

"Everybody is fine, Howard. They were all here when you first came in. Moose, Vince and your girlfriend, Ms Butler. Um...but there was...a bit of an altercation."

"W...what do you mean?"

Gideon sighed, looking down at their joined hands for a moment, as if trying to find the words.

"Vince and Moose, they began arguing...and Vince, he started throwing things at all of us. At the doctors, Joey, everyone. They had to escort him out, and Moose as well, because he was cursing up a _thunderstorm_."

The mental image of Joey, with all his weird peeves, swearing repeatedly, had Howard and Gideon dissolving into mutual grins for a moment. And then gravity came back, and the woman was once again speaking solemnly.

"Ms Butler stayed by your bedside for a long time. I eventually talked her into going home and getting some rest. Vince and Moose aren't allowed back in here, I'm afraid. Oh Howard, this has all been so terrible. To think, Bollo was always such a sweetheart! I can't believe he would do something like this. Oh, you should've seen it, it was so heart-wrenching. Everything happened so quickly. I and the others were getting Bollo's attention, and you were so still. Joey was screaming at you to wake up, and then the police came and Bollo, he went mad. He began running toward them and their sirens, and they _shot him_! I just..."

Gideon's voice had gotten more hurried and strained as she relayed the tale, and by the end tears were making slow tracks down the woman's cheeks. Howard wanted to be of comfort, but his head was filled with too many questions. Questions he didn't feel Gideon could properly answer. So there was only one thing for it. Howard relaxed in his bed and concentrated on getting well again. Maybe if he put enough mental energy into it he could be out of here sooner than four weeks.

* * *

Needless to say, Howard's hospital stay was filled to the brim with comforts, frustrations and humiliations.

He was rarely alone, for which he was grateful. Gideon or Tristan or one of the various nurses was always at his side, giving the man someone to talk to so he didn't go absolutely mad with boredom. He stayed away from the questions that seared at his mind constantly, not wanting to upset the two women who devoted every bit of their free time to sit quietly with him when he knew there were better things they could be occupying their day with. He supposed this was how Vince felt all those years ago when it was _he_ who had been bound to a bed, and Howard found himself wishing more than ever that he _had_ been allowed to stay overnight, even though those days had long since passed.

What was frustrating, and caused Howard to snap several times, was his limited mobility. For a control freak, the fact that he couldn't sit up or stand on his own made Howard feel incredibly vulnerable, and as a result, easily angered. He found himself apologising at least once every day to someone for shouting at them. He even threw his food tray across the room once when he accidentally banged his bad arm against it while trying to eat one-handed. And it was beyond embarrassing to have to be shepherded like a baby to the toilet, and to need someone to uncap his milk every day.

The lack of Vince's presence also had Howard on edge, mind plagued relentlessly with questions and speculations. He felt physically ill when he considered the possibility that something terrible could've happened to the boy, while he didn't have Howard around to keep him in line. But that was ridiculous; surely if Vince had come to any harm Howard would've been told, right?

Left alone in his room at night, these torturing thoughts would dance about Howard's head, giving him little rest. The what-ifs and questions would morph into visual scenarios that played across his vision like a film, and Howard desperately wanted to vacate the theatre. Visions of Vince sitting alone in the Lodge. Of him worrying night and day over Howard, of wanting to come and see him but being unable. Vince somehow being out on the streets alone, perhaps trying to do the shopping as Howard always did, but just getting lost in town and never finding his way back. The kid didn't even know how to cook! Oh, Howard should've taken the time to teach him more things! The man cursed himself as he imagined Vince going hungry, pantry and fridge empty. Of the boy attempting to cook something but setting the Lodge on fire. Of that animal thief making a surprise return and this time coming into the hut to find Vince alone. Of Vince being the one Bollo unleashed his wrath upon. Of Howard returning that early morning, opening the door quietly so as not to wake Vince. He heard the distinct crunch of glass underneath his shoes, and furrowed his brow in the darkness. Surely Vince hadn't broken things _again_. That's it, Howard was going to have some choice words with the boy. He stepped forward into the Lodge, door closing behind him, and that's when his eyes finally took in the shambles before him in the darkness. Suddenly, movement to his left caused Howard to turn sharply. He stood frozen as his eyes beheld a large hairy silhouette in the corner, and had but a moment to gasp in shock before Bollo was running around madly within the main room, flinging anything that wasn't nailed down about as he roared in anger. He seemed to ignore Howard, and the man made to turn and run, but halted as a spark of light caught his gaze. Howard felt as though he were sinking. He watched mutely as Bollo circled about across the room, flinging something within his grasp. It was large, and made dull thumping sounds as it hit the floor. It was entirely bound in shadow, except for the little chains and glitter that adorned the jacket it wore. The shadows suddenly lifted, and Howard could only howl in horror and heartache as Bollo continued to ignore him, upending the sofa and throwing Vince's limp body around and around in his large hands. Howard was sinking.

Howard sat up with a jolt; he hadn't realised he'd drifted off into a nightmare. The sharp pain that bloomed in his arm and neck from his quick movements offered him a brief distraction from the horrible images that remained on the edge of his vision. He breathed in and out evenly as he wiped sweat off his forehead, laying back down and closing his eyes with a sigh.

* * *

Howard moved a bit stiffly as he walked through the Zooniverse gates, Tristan on one side and Gideon on the other. Howard felt quite warm at the obvious concern these two women held for him. But he had a mission, and that mission was almost complete.

Howard moved as quickly as he could through the zoo, the women falling to trail a few paces behind as his steps grew surer. And upon rounding a corner, the Lodge front came into view, as well as the kid, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, fag between his lips and a few others littered at his feet. He wasn't looking up as Howard approached, but must've sensed him, because as Howard was within a few steps of him, Vince's head shot up.

The two had a silent staring session for a few seconds, and then Howard was closing the gap between them, bringing his hand up, taking the cigarette from the boy's mouth and dropping it with the others. Stepping on it, Howard kept his eyes on the kid.

"I told you I'll not let you maintain that habit."

Vince smiled a bit, and that's when it clicked home in Howard's brain that something wasn't right. Oh, the kid had a cut along the side of his lip, and a fading bruise over his cheek. Howard hadn't noticed at first...

"Oh my god. What happened?"

"Nothin-"

"No, someone hit you. Who was it?"

Vince's eyebrows drew together, and Howard was beyond fucking around. He gripped the boy by his chin sharply, bringing their faces closer.

"_Who the hell hit you_?"

The boy scowled, grabbing Howard's hand and pushing it away from him, leaning back into the wall.

"I can look after myself, y'know. Don't need you actin' on as me bodyguard all the damn time-"

"Vince just tell me who it is now."

The kid let out a huff, looking past Howard at the two females, who kept at a distance, silent as they listened to the tense discussion. Vince then shrugged his shoulders, looking again up at Howard.

"Look, me an' Moose just got into a bit of a row, alright? I don' want you flyin' off the handl- Howard? Howard!"

The man hadn't waited to hear the rest of Vince's explanation; he'd immediately turned and began marching toward the Chameleon Boudoir where Joey still hung around, one goal in his mind. The boy and two women followed behind, the former yelling at him that he didn't need Howard sticking his nose in people's business. The latter also calling out for him to calm down.

Howard _was _calm. He was incredibly calm as he reached his targeted building, seeing Moose walking toward its doors, ready to go inside and check up on his animals. It was only their many years of friendship that kept Howard from decking the other man then and there.

"Oi! Joey!"

The man turned to look at Howard over his shoulder, giving Howard a nod as he walked to meet him. Moose glanced back at the other three before speaking to Howard.

"Hey mate, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Now tell me why you decided to go beating on Vince soon as my back was turned."

Moose didn't appear confused or surprised, or even angry. He just licked his lower lip, gaze once again drifting behind Howard before locking eyes with the man.

"Is that what he told you?" The Australian let out a low laugh, shaking his head as he continued, "Well did he also tell you about how he threw pointy medical instruments at me? Did he tell you the things he shouted and how he tried to bludgeon your girlfriend as you lay bleedin' out on a hospital bed!"

The man's voice steadily rose to a shout as he stood back a step from Howard, grim smile set in place as he gestured at Vince, who was silently observing the scene with a blank expression. Gideon and Tristan came to stand next to the Boudoir, faces concerned but holding no evidence that what Joey was shouting was a lie.

"Did he come cryin' to you, the second you got out hospital, Howard? Knew he would-"

"_I did not_! I told him to fuckin' just leave it!"

Vince took a step forward, voice coming through slightly clenched teeth, face showing indignation and anger, the first strong emotions Howard had seen on him in a while. Moose gave a short laugh in the boy's direction.

"Ah, of course. And ol' Moono just couldn't resist bein' all protective. But y'see, you're protectin' the wrong person, Howard. It's true I punched the little rat yesterday, and I been wantin' to punch him for weeks now. You know why I couldn't? 'Cause the second we was booted out the hospital, he ran off. Just disappeared! Hell, he only showed up here yesterday mornin'!"

Howard screwed his eyes shut against all the words, the conflict and the confusion. He just wanted things to go back to normal, to before Bollo's attack, even to before the fucking Ivan fiasco. When Howard found his voice it was much steadier than he felt.

"Well, I think I'm just going to retire for the day. I'm going to my house, and I'm not going to be disturbed. _By anyone_."

Moose stared incredulously after him as the man turned and began walking back in the direction he came. Thankfully no one followed him. Well, no one except Vince, who he could hear quietly moving behind him. But when he'd said 'anyone' he hadn't been including the kid, and he knew that the boy understood that.

Once inside the Lodge, Howard immediately sat down on the sofa, brushing a stray bit of torn fabric off; Vince joined him soon after. Howard honestly didn't want to know anymore, but he found himself asking anyway.

"Is what Joey said true, Vince?"

The boy took a moment before nodding slowly, and Howard let out a long sigh, next question out before he could reign it in.

"Where'd you go? I mean, I was in that hospital for almost five weeks."

The boy looked down at his hands, picking at his shirt, before his eyes moved up to Howard's face.

"What's death like?"

The question to his question had Howard's already bogged down mind taking a turn, and it took a few stutterings for him to actually speak coherently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's it like, when you're dead? I've heard lots of people mention a heaven, so what's that like? Did you see any angels?"

The boy was now leaning forward, looking up at Howard with nothing in his eyes but casual curiosity. And Howard didn't know what to say to him. True, he could just give the easy answer, that there was a heaven and angels on clouds and that he saw pearly gates. But truth be told Howard had seen nothing. In fact, he hadn't _actually _died, so the boy's question was faulty.

But Howard didn't want to give either of these answers, so he sent his mind into overdrive, thinking up something that would satisfy the boy as well as perhaps lighten his mood.

"Well, uh...you see...first Death comes. And he's just like in the cartoons, you know, with the black hood and the scythe. And he whisks you away into his...into his taxi cab."

"_Taxi cab_?"

Now Vince had a grin overtaking his features, and this spurred Howard on as he continued his tale.

"And so you're riding in this cab, and there's more than one Death, 'cause just one can't ferry all the dead. And they've all got damn cockney accents." The boy gave a laugh at this. "And Death basically takes you to uh, y'know, heaven."

"And that's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like, are there animals in heaven? And what about horrible things like spiders. Do they go to hell?"

"No, Vince, spiders don't go to hell; they're just spiders...Um, there's different heavens for uh, different things. Like I would go to a people heaven, and Cooper would go to fox heaven, and-"

"D'you think Bollo's gone to monkey hell? I mean, he _did _kill you."

Howard sighed heavily once more. He really wanted to correct the boy, to inform him that he hadn't actually died; that all of this was just hypothetical. But he couldn't find the words, and so pressed on through his fable, voice going low and solemn.

"No, Vince, I don't believe Bollo's gone to monkey hell. Right now this minute, he's up in monkey heaven, swinging from trees and having fun. And you know what? I bet he's loads happier there than he ever was here. 'Cause up in monkey heaven there's no circus, and no zoo enclosures, and no men. And there's also no sickness, or blindness or deafness. See? So I'll bet he's having a great time."

Vince grinned at the thought, but soon his smile lowered into a frown and he swallowed thickly, inhaling a shaky breath. Howard immediately moved closer to him, bringing an arm around his shoulders. The boy's voice was unsteady as he spoke quietly.

"Howard, um, I know Bollo killed you an' all but...I really miss 'im."

"I know, Little Man. It's alright, I don't hate him, for...you know."

Howard _didn't_ hate Bollo, but he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't glad the ancient ape was finally gone for good. But like hell he'd ever say that to the kid. No, best to just say comforting things, at least until his pounding head slowed enough for him to get back to questioning Vince on where exactly he'd been since Howard was committed to the hospital. He also wanted to get back to Moose and ask him for details on what they'd been fighting about in the first place, but Howard wasn't certain he could face the man just yet. Better to simply spend the rest of the day in the quiet of the Lodge with the boy.

After Vince seemed a bit back to his old self, Howard got up from the sofa and immediately took a long warm shower, until the water ran cold. He didn't even dry before slipping into his pajamas and collapsing onto the sofa. He was so very tired, and now that he knew for certain that Vince was alive and whole, he felt his eyes droop downward beyond his control.

Vince curled up at Howard's feet, scribbling in his book and glancing over at the older man every few minutes. Howard observed him silently, wondering for the millionth time just what it was that the kid put into that thing. It was nearly at its end!

The man's eyes eventually could no longer keep their silent vigil, and Howard was slipping under consciousness and into a dark dreamless sleep.

(Woohoo! Eight more to go! And if you have any questions, any at all, fling 'em at me like a satsuma.)


	31. Chapter 31

EVILCAKES: Alrighty, so this one's a bit short :/ but I like it, so here it is! As for the questions, here are my answers as best I can write them. I don't want to reveal_ too_ much, cause a big part of this story is speculation, but I also know you'll all never find most of this stuff out in the actual story sooo...

Vince was left at an orphanage by his mother, for reasons to be revealed in the third fic mwahaha; his father never even knew he existed, i.e. his mother never told him about Vince. Vince has no idea about his parents or anything, since he's been an orphan since infancy, the only thing he has is his last name, which was left on him, probably in a short letter or something. The orphanage gave him his first name, which is why it's so formal. Vincent XP

Anyway, He's been in a few different foster homes, but he's been with the Lamberts the longest; they consist of a husband and wife and three adopted kids. Two of which are girls. They don't make much money, as the wife is the only one who works, and so all of Vince's stuff is hand-me-downs, hence the pink jacket. His adoptive parents aren't abusive toward him but they certainly are never there, even when they are. The husband is basically attached to the couch by skin, and the wife is always fighting about something with either the husband or one of the girls. They basically just let the kids run wild and raise themselves, which is partly why Vince claims to have 'grown up in the jungle'.

There has been a lot of violence in Vince's life so far, observed, experienced and dealt out, though the details are another story for another time ;) Vince's aloofness is due largely to these incidents, as well as some actual mental problems, but we'll get into that later in the fic.

As for the fate of the pink jacket, why, it was ruined by 'Bumba' when he tried to kill Vince, once again for reasons I won't get into for...reasons.

Hope these answers were good and haven't left you _too_ frustrated. On with the show!

Chapter 31

Howard awoke to the feeling of warmth plastered to his side, and turned his head slightly to see the top of the kid's head. They'd both fallen asleep on the couch, apparently; Howard flat out on his back with Vince pressed up against him, scrawny limbs thrown over the older man and face hidden against Howard's shoulder. It took him a moment to recall how exactly they had ended up that way, and yet another to behold the sight surrounding them.

Howard had been so exhausted yesterday he'd failed to take in the disaster that was once again his home. He really should've known better, what with Gideon telling him how Bollo was found wrecking the place, and Vince gone his entire stay at the hospital, no one had been in the Lodge to clean it.

The man ran a hand over his mouth, stubble catching his skin, as he took in the damage. It wasn't as horrific as the time Vince and his friends had went wild, but there were more broken things. Like his phone, and the small table it had lived on. Both were smashed to pieces. And nearly every dish he owned was shattered and lying scattered about the kitchen. Howard marveled at how out of it he must've been yesterday to not even notice the crockery as it crunched underfoot.

Vince's dresser as well as his tackle box was toppled over, contents creating a rainbow of colors where they lay across the floor. The sofa was completely untouched, but the television was lying before it smashed beyond repair. There were even a few dents in the walls from where the gorilla had punched them.

There was also blood. Howard's blood, of course; dried in spots all along the floor. Vince acted on as if he didn't even see them, once the boy was awake and helping him clean. It took Howard quite a while to scrub them completely off the floor.

But the greatest loss in Howard's eyes were that of his LPs. Thankfully most of them were just lying about unharmed across the Lodge, but a handful were completely ruined. And Howard's heart wept at seeing the titles, the decades old vinyl, forever lost.

He also tended to the boy's face, dabbing at it with disinfectant, even as Vince repeatedly tried to pull away and dismiss Howard's concern. Soon the two were once again sat on the sofa, in a freshly cleaned Lodge that appeared the same and yet was wholly different when you took in the details. Much like Howard felt.

Howard was in no rush, moving about sluggishly all morning as he cleaned. He knew that Joey and Gideon were almost certainly taking up his and Vinces' posts, and felt guilty about making them do extra work for one more day, but Howard just couldn't face the outside world yet. At least not until that lunch hour, when Vince quietly stated that he was going to visit with Naboo, and Howard found himself not liking being alone in the hut.

Howard was soon out the door and heading toward the centre of the zoo, where he and Joey used to hang around, knowing he'd find the man there.

There were a few other keepers lounging around, food and drink in hand as they chatted. Moose was sitting on a bench, looking lost in thought as Howard walked up to him. When he noticed Howard, Joey gave him a tight smile, gesturing for him to take a seat. Howard obliged and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes before looking over to his friend, and began speaking in a calm, quiet tone.

"Listen, I don't want to argue, Joey. I really just want to hear the truth. About what all you and Vince were fighting about. I'd ask the kid but...he'd probably just make something up. He does that."

Moose sighed through his nose, gaze drifting idly over the other staff around them, and Howard waited patiently for him to find the words.

"Alright, you can't blame me if I'm confusing, cause everything happened so fast I wasn't entirely sure which way was up for a while. S'pose I'll start at the beginning. Um..."

Moose cleared his throat, and Howard suspected it pained him more than Howard was aware to recount this tale. Surprisingly his first instinct was to wrap his arm around Joey, much like how he did whenever the kid got this way. But that would be incredibly awkward, so Howard settled for patting Joey on the shoulder.

"Um, I was headin' on to the Boudoir, when I heard screeching comin' from your place. I thought maybe you and the kid were havin' it out. Was gonna just leave it, y'know, your business is your own an' all that. But then I heard crashes, so I ran for the door, not knowing _what_ to think. God Howard, it was...I first saw you lyin' there, in the middle of the room. I called your name but...you didn't move. That's when I saw Bollo. He was in the corner, holdin' Noir's jacket. He was still until he noticed me, and then he was up and chargin'. I slammed the door shut, and just went sprintin' for the office."

Moose cleared his throat again, swallowing and no longer looking at Howard but down at his hands where they grasped his thermos.

"Once I was in there I didn't even bother speaking to Fossil. He was right pissed off when I started shouting over the intercom. He got real sober once he heard what I was sayin', though. I told everyone that Bollo was loose and in the Keeper Lodge, and that you were hurt. I ordered everyone to move their asses to the Lodge or else I'd personally smash their heads in."

Moose laughed lowly, though it was possibly the saddest laugh Howard had ever heard, and Howard found his own throat going a bit tight as the story unfolded.

"I then grabbed up the phone and told Fossil to call the police, and went tearing back out toward the hut. Everyone was out there, standing in front of the Lodge and lookin' right pale as they heard Bollo crashin' about in there. A couple were peeking in through your kitchen window, and I shouted for everyone to gather together behind me...I opened up the door, and there was Bollo, almost as if he was waitin' for us. We all just scattered completely as he came barreling out into the open. People were screaming and a few just up and ran. He didn't make a go for anyone, though; just started running about in circles and jumping onto exhibits. Gideon and that other girl keeper, whats-her-name, started talking to Bollo, and he immediately went over to 'em. I made my go into the hut and started draggin' you out. I didn't even _think_ to check for your pulse...I just started screamin'. I shouted all kinds of things at you, Howard, but you wouldn't move...Poor Mrs Gideon, she immediately just started cryin', and all the other keepers were shouting for someone to get the tranq gun. But no one moved; we were all petrified.

And that's when the sirens came, and before I knew what was happenin' cops were all jumping out of their cars and shouting between eachother. Bollo went absolutely mad! He just started runnin' at the police, no warnin' or anything! The cops, well they...they fired at him, and he fell a few yards away from the first o' them. Everyone was in such a shock. That's when you were hauled away into an ambulance, and Gideon told me to come with her. We were headin' for her car when we saw Noir coming in through the zoo gates. He asked what was happening and Gideon told him you was hurt badly. He tailed us to Gideon's car and got into the backseat. He didn't ask questions or anything, just sat there staring off the entire trip.

When we got to the hospital, Gideon immediately went for the phones. Said she was phonin' your girlfriend. Me and Noir found which room you'd been taken to. There were doctors and nurses shoutin' everywhere. I don't know, all that shouting, from Bollo and the keepers and the cops and doctors...I just...I lost it a bit. I started demanding to know if you were going to be alright, and a few nurses tried to get me and Noir to leave. That's when Ms Butler and Gideon came flyin' into the room.

You...there was blood all over, and Gideon and Ms Butler were crying, and doctors were shouting, and...and the kid was just _standing there_! Just standing there in the corner, not even looking scared or angry or...just blank. I grabbed him and began asking where he'd been. He should've been in the Lodge! And Noir just snapped suddenly. Y'know, one second he was like a zombie and the next he was scratchin' the hell outta my arms.

I let him go and he dove for the little medical tables the doctors had pulled out. There was all kinds of instruments on them, and he just started flinging them at us. Gideon and Ms Butler ran from the room, and doctors all began grabbing hold of him. I'd never seen anything like it. It's like it wasn't even Noir. He kept screamin'; no words, just noise, and he even started kicking and scratching the doctors. Eventually they managed to carry him out the room and toward the doors. I got pulled out as well...

And, um, Vince just...ran off. Soon as we were thrown out the front doors he didn't even look at me, he just began running. And the morning before you got out the hospital he comes walkin' back in through the gates. I went up to him and demanded he tell me where the hell he'd been, and he just shrugged and continued on! I grabbed him by his shirt and asked him where he'd been the mornin' you got attacked, and he said...He fuckin' said he'd gone out to get bananas for Bollo."

Moose let loose that laugh again, this one at a manically higher pitch. He looked at Howard once more.

"I punched 'im, square in the face. He fell to the ground, picked himself back up, and started walkin' off again; like nothin' had happened! Now Howard, tell me this, why the _hell_ would Vince be out at dawn hours, buying bananas for a gorilla he'd just left alone in your house...I told you, I've told you again and again, mate, I don't like the feeling this kid gives me. Now, I'm not lookin' to start a fight with ya, Howard, but you've got to at least consider the possibility..."

"The possibility of what?"

Howard felt a pit developing in his stomach at Joey's words and the look he was currently giving him. No. _No_. Surely he couldn't be implying...

Howard vehemently shook his head, raising a hand to point at Joey.

"No, I know what you're thinking, and no. Vince...Fossil must've told him he was having Bollo put down that morning and so he decided to hide him in the Lodge again."

Moose let a sardonic smile come over his face.

"You left for your date that night...when, eight? And Noir wasn't in the zoo when Fossil first arrived the next day. Now tell me, how could he hear something from someone who leaves the zoo at seven. I saw that boy, as I went about my afternoon, and as I was closin' up for the night. That kid never _once_ left Bollo's cage the entire time Fossil and I and everyone else was there. And Fossil didn't make any kind of announcement about Bollo over the intercom."

Howard had promised himself he wouldn't fight with his friend, but the strong urge to do just that was running along Howard's skin, from his head down to his hands, which twitched into loose fists. How dare he! He knew _nothing_ of Vince; barely acknowledged the kid! And yet here he was acting on as if he knew exactly what was in the boy's head. _Howard_ did, not him! Howard knew the boy. Yes he was odd; yes he was reckless and stupid for hiding Bollo in their hut. But sinister? Malevolent? Fuck that.

Howard found himself rising, Joey following suit, hands up in a calming manner.

"Now Moono, I told you I wasn't looking to upset you, but you've _got to see_-"

"Shut up about Vince! You've got no right,_ no right _to be talking about him like that! You hear me? If I hear you bringing this up again, to me or _anyone _else, Joey, I'll..."

Howard let the unspoken threat hang in the air as he turned and walked away, toward the kiosk. He found the door to the tiny building open, and so silently peered in. In the dim fairy lights he could make out three figures, one of which raised a hand at him.

"Howard! Come in. It's alright if he comes in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

The first voice had been Vince's, and the answer was given by Naboo, who sat in between the kid and another man, who wordlessly nodded up at Howard. Howard had to stoop slightly to stand in the kiosk, and looked down on the three males scrunched together on the dusty loveseat. Thankfully he spotted no pills or hookahs of any kind; his tempter might not've been able to handle that. Vince gestured over to his right at the man blearily smiling up at Howard.

"This is Naboo's mate, Pete. He works at the local Dixons."

The man in question lifted a hand to wave at Howard, giving a low "Hi". Howard thought that the man had smoked one too many frogs. Mother hen mode kickstarting, Howard motioned for Vince to stand up and come with him. He _really _didn't want the kid alone with these people.

The boy frowned but seemed to sense Howard's foul mood, because he complied without a word. As the two were walking back toward the Lodge, Howard made sure to keep his tone as light as possible, and to keep his eyes ahead, and not plastered on the kid.

"So I heard you were out...that morning...buying Bollo some bananas?"

"Yeah."

"Vince...you really shouldn't have put Bollo in the hut again. I know you only wanted to protect him, Little Man, but Fossil was going to put him down no matter what. And, honestly, it would've been a much more peaceful way to go then by police bullets."

Howard clamped his mouth shut. Dammit. He hadn't meant to start guilt-tripping the kid, and looked over at the boy, who's gaze was mostly on the ground as they walked. Howard laid his hand on the boy's back.

"Hey, what matters now is that everyone's okay. No one else got hurt; I'm fine, and Bollo's in monkey heaven."

Vince looked up at Howard, head still hanging a bit, but a small smile gracing his face.

"Cheers, Howard."


	32. Chapter 32

ISITWRITTEN: For those of you who've never heard the Boosh radio series, I strongly suggest looking that shit up, cause I've littered allusions to it throughout this entire fic, and this chapter is basically just a big dedication to it. And personally the radio show will always be my favorite. That thing never fails to make my sides ache.

Chapter 32

"Alright, zoo announcement, ladies and gentlemen. Be quiet!"

Everyone was gathered outside the front of the Main Office building, and Howard was just glad Fossil hadn't ordered them all into his office like the last times. Howard noticed that Mrs. Gideon seemed upset as she stood off to the side, speaking quietly with two other keepers, but Bob's rising voice kept him where he stood.

"Now, I know we all remember that sad sad occasion when our dear marmosets disappeared. Remember how we all searched the zoo for hours to try and find them? Well, get ready to do that again, cause one of our snakes is missin'. Yeah, Mr Rogers the cobra. Yep, missing. Go look for him."

With that the blue-shirted man turned and walked into the building, leaving everyone to talk amongst themselves, a few looking around themselves quite nervously. A loose snake was something to get worried about. After a few minutes everyone reluctantly spread out in small groups, rooting through exhibits and peering cautiously into bushes. Thankfully Vince didn't try scrambling up any trees this time. Apparently he still remembered how easily Howard could snatch him off his feet.

The search went on for hours, and eventually Fossil's voice droned over the loudspeakers, announcing for everyone to get to their posts, and that he was officially assigning a keeper to patrol duty every night starting the next day. Howard could hear various curses and shouts of outrage all across the zoo. People still recalled the dreaded guard duty with Graham last winter, and it seemed this winter would be just as bad.

* * *

Five nights in and Howard was getting called to Fossil's office. He knew why; every poor keeper assigned to patrol up and down the zoo at night was told by Bob himself in his office. Why the man didn't just announce it over the intercom like he did before Howard wasn't sure.

"Alright, Moon, it's your night. So soon as those gates lock up I want you and Noir walkin' around all night, got it?"

It took Howard a second to nod mutely to Fossil, who then waved him from the room. Him and Vince? But...only one person was assigned to duty. Then again, he and Vince were a bit like one person. Maybe Fossil saw it that way. He always lumped them in together when it came to things like this. Ah well, who was Howard to complain? At least he wouldn't be alone. And that meant neither would Vince be when _his _turn came. The Zooniverse was awfully spooky when it got dark.

* * *

"Vince! Seriously, the zoo's closed, it's time to go _now_!"

Howard pulled on his coat, looking with disdain over at the boy who was currently staring at their new television. Colobus was playing, and while Howard had prepared for their long night ahead, Vince had just silently watched his favorite show.

With a frown, Howard walked over to the tv and turned it off, bracing himself against the outraged cries of the kid as he reached down and pulled the boy up, shepherding the complaining teen over to the coat rack.

"Aw come on, Howard! Why do we have to go on nightwatch? Can't we just stay here and _not _go?"

Secretly Howard was incredibly pleased. These past several days the boy had become much like his usual self. The introverted Vince of the last few weeks seemed to have vanished after the Bollo incident. Now the kid was back in all his mouthy glory; and though he was currently on Howard's last nerve, the man was glad for it.

While the boy threw complaints and excuses left and right, Howard made him put on his own black furry coat and red boots, as well as the white scarf he'd grown fond of. The nights were becoming freezing much faster than last year, and Howard wanted to avoid either of them catching a cold.

* * *

An hour into their patrol and Vince had finally gone quiet. He'd complained incessantly as they moved between exhibits until Howard grit his teeth and told Vince that if there _was _someone stealing animals they'd've heard his loud mouth by then.

Howard couldn't really blame the kid; he was desperately fighting boredom himself. Fossil had given Howard an electrical baton to carry throughout their shift, just in case. Howard twirled it in his hand, feeling dreadfully tired.

They passed by the front gates for the third time, and Vince once again called out to Graham, who smiled and waved at him, and who _once again _asked who Howard was, and that guests weren't allowed to stay in the zoo overnight. Vince seemed to think Graham was joking, laughing every time. But by the third round the boy was looking up at Howard in confusion.

"Why's he keep sayin' that?"

"Why do you think? The man's daft; doesn't remember who I am."

"What, like _ever_? How's that even possible?"

Howard sighed, voice reflecting his exhaustion.

"Look, Vince, he's been that way since I first started working here, alright? He never recognises me, and I honestly don't know if he's got brain damage, or if it's just one long-winded joke."

Vince laughed for a good minute at this new information, grin on his face as he began speaking once more.

"How does someone not recognise a person they see every single day!? Mind you, you _are_ a bit generic-looking, but still-"

"Generic-looking? What d'you mean?"

"Like facially, you're a bit generic-looking."

"_Facially generic-looking_?"

"Well I don't mean that in a bad way! It's- I'm sure its got its advantages; I mean, I wouldn't know, I'm quite striking."

Howard shook his head at the practically smug grin overcoming the boy's features.

"You're so vain, Vince. You know there's more to life than just looks. You're always preening yourself. Are you aware of the myth of Narcissus?"

"That bloke what used to look in lakes?"

"And then he fell in one and drowned."

"Yeah, well we got mirrors now."

"Well you can fall into mirrors."

"Wot? No you can't!"

"Yes you can."

Howard smiled victoriously as the teenager went silent beside him, looking down at the ground as his mind buzzed. Howard could see him mentally processing the idea of people falling into mirrors. That's exactly why Howard had said it. True, he'd probably regret it tomorrow when the boy refused to shut up about it, but for now the blissful quiet as the kid's mind whirred was breathtaking.

They circled the zoo endlessly that entire night, and as Fossil and a few keepers arrived, Howard fought hard not to just crawl underneath his duvet. He slipped into new clothes and donned his keeper jacket, still feeling chilled from the night air. Vince _did_ collapse face down on the sofa, and Howard had to literally pick him up and force him to stand by the door to pull on his own jacket and shoes.

The boy did all this with a scowl on his face and his eyes shut, and Howard was sympathetic enough not to push him out the door as he opened it. The boy seemed to wake up a bit as the sun rose, and Howard walked him to his station, warning him about falling asleep against the marsupial cages.

* * *

Not ten minutes into his work, Howard heard Fossil call for him and the boy over the loudspeakers, and groaned as he trudged toward the office building. This could only be bad news. He met the kid outside the front door, and they shuffled slowly into Fossil's office, where the man sat, looking quite frustrated.

"Sit down you two, we need to talk. Hey watch my lunch pail! Now, we got a problem..."

"Wot?"

That one syllable was peppered with Vince's sour mood, and Howard inwardly winced, just wanting this meeting done with. He really didn't favor having a fight on his hands.

"First of all, what the hell were you two doing on nightwatch? Lookin' at your ass?"

"We were there, watching stuff."

Howard's answer came out mumbled, the wording ineloquent, and he chalked it up to being awake and walking all night. Fossil's voice rose as he continued talking.

"Well, somethin' happened. Some weirdo creep-ass broke into the zoo last night; he struck again! You two were probably watchin' your brains leak, because he _struck. Again_! We lost some animals!"

"Who did we lose?"

"We lost two ocelots."

Vince was now sitting straight. He quite liked helping to feed the little felines, even though they weren't his to care for.

"No way, not Marcus!"

"No, Marcus was in the back, he was chasing his own heiny. Now I've been thinking about this long and hard, and I've come up with a solution. We hire a chopper!"

"Yeah!"

Howard, who'd been drifting off a bit, snapped awake at Fossil's lunatic plan as well as Vince's enthusiastic agreement.

"Yeah, we fly it around the zoo all night. We get some guns. Some flashing lights. This guy shows his face, he's history!"

"That'll be brilliant! Can I ride shotgun?"

This madness had gone on long enough. Howard now leant forward in his seat, voice rising over the other twos'.

"Excuse me, hello! What are you two doing?"

"Why are you speaking?"

"What are you two- this is a small underfunded zoo!"

"Chopper."

"No, look, this isn't Platoon! This is a small, underfunded zoo, okay?"

Fossil then proceeded to throw one hell of a hissy fit, Vince tried to play referee, and Howard stormed tiredly from the room, knowing that despite their ramblings there was no way on earth those two could actually purchase and pilot a helicopter.

* * *

While it was true Fossil and Vince couldn't afford an actual helicopter. They did disappear from the zoo, returning around lunch hour with bags full of torches, strobe lights and fireworks. Fossil told Howard shortly that he and Vince were taking patrol duty that night, and the man sighed in defeat as he realised this meant he'd have to stay awake as well, if only to keep those two maniacs from starting a fire.

As darkness settled over the sky and everyone began to leave, Howard stood outside the Lodge, watching from a distance as Fossil and Vince ranted and raved, donned in shoddy army gear and facepaint. Seriously, those two were taking this way too far. It was surprising to Howard how quickly they had gone from practically hating each other to teaming up, but then again the man supposed it was their dual insanity that finally bonded them. Or something like that. Hell, how did he ever end up in a situation like this, trailing after a pair of lunatics in the middle of a zoo at night? He only hoped Fossil didn't go into some sort of 'army day flashback', or there might be real trouble.

Those two were not at all quiet as they 'stealthily' moved through the pathways, looking around corners and aiming torches into animals' cages, waking them rudely. Reaching the zoo gates, Bob had Graham open the gate so they could have a peek outside, asking the guard if he'd seen any suspicious activity. The man spoke dully of hearing some sounds off to the right, and with a mighty "HIS ASS IS MINE!" Fossil and Vince dashed off into the shadows.

Howard didn't even bother chasing after them, instead coming to stand just outside the gate beside Graham. Sure enough, loud sparks and pops sounded off yards away as Vince and Fossil began lighting various fireworks into the night. Howard officially deemed this a new low in his zookeeping career. He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head and speaking aloud to Graham.

"Good god, look at them. What do they think they're trying to achieve? It's just, they'll never catch _anyone_ this way!"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss zoo policy with members of the public. As the zoo is closed, now-"

Howard's eyes closed in utter defeat. He was honestly reaching a line with this fucking man.

"Graham, don't. It's me."

"Who're you?"

"Graham-"

"Don't call me Graham if you don't know who I am-"

"Don't do this to me again."

"Don't do this to _me_, sir. Because I had a woman this morning, she was doing the same thing. She was sat there-"

"_That was me_!"

"That was not you."

"That was me."

"Was that you?"

"Jus- stop it."

"Why're you dressed as a woman?"

"...Are you high?"

"I'm just doing me job!"

"Please, please stop doing this, okay-"

The two began speaking over each other, voices rising as both completely forgot about Vince and Fossils' night excursion.

"No, listen, sir. Sir? Sir? Sir? Shut it."

"Don't. Don't. Just don't. Don't do it."

Now Graham's stance changed, and he held up his little baton, eyeing Howard with brows raised.

"If you don't leave, I'll be forced to apply the electrical baton."

"Yeah? What, an electrical baton like this one?"

Howard gave a challenging head-tilt as he raised his own weapon, giving the thing a jolt to show Graham it was real. The man gave a short, fluttering laugh.

"_Oh_, I see, I see what's happening."

"Yeah, you're gonna make me use this thing."

"Yeah, get the big electrical baton out!"

"Well I'm gonna wield _something_."

"Well let's see what you've got then, _come on then ya tit_!"

Howard and Graham dove at each other, jabbing at the others' sides and legs. Howard admired the man's ability to take a shock, but he had nearly nine year's determination on his side, and quickly overcame the shorter man. Howard stood victoriously over the fallen guard, having flung the man's baton as far as he could. But Howard was far from done. Years of pent-up frustration was rearing its head tonight, and Howard just let go, reveling in the sound of the distant fireworks and Vince and Fossils' war cries.

"Now what's my name again, hmm? C'mon, you know it."

Graham looked up at him with a hint of fear now in his eyes as he lay on the ground.

"Listen, sir, I don't have any money on me, but-"

Now that did it. Without a second thought Howard was jabbing the baton down onto Graham's stomach, causing the man to shriek and twist away.

"There ya go!"

"OW! That hurt!"

"Say my name. Say. My. Name!"

"I don't know it!"

"Howard."

"Howard! Howard!"

"Yeah that's the first part; second part, you're on your own. Come on, what is it?"

"Ow. I don't know."

"What is it?"

"_I don't know_!"

"You do know it, it's a planet."

"Jupiter!"

"Smaller planet."

"Jup-"

"_Smaller planet_!"

"I don't know!"

"Rhymes with spoon."

"Fork!"

Howard groaned at the idiocy and proceeded to jab Graham a couple more times.

"OW! MOON! Moon moon moon moon!"

"Yes that's it, Howard Moon!"

"Howard Moon!"

"Howard T.J. Moon."

"Howard T.J. Moon!"

"You won't forget my name now will you!?"

"Howard...T.J...Moon."

"YEAH!"

Howard jabbed the man one more time, and Graham went limp. Apparently the body can only take so many jabs with an electrical baton before it just gives out. Checking quickly that the guy wasn't dead, Howard considered it a night, and immediately strolled back to the Lodge. Vince and Fossil would be alright. At the worst they'd get the people who lived within hearing range of the zoo upset.

Howard went straight to bed that night, and fell asleep with an intense feeling of satisfaction that he hadn't possessed in a long time.


	33. Chapter 33

ONLYFIVEMORE: Quick note, for those that don't realise; I've deleted the author's note from way back when, so all the chapters are now lined up perfectly, meaning basically that chapter 31 is now under chapter 31, and not chapter 32. So if you haven't actually read _chapter 32_, you might wanna go back and make sure.

Chapter 33

Tristan showed up at lunch hour again, asking Howard how he was feeling, and the man waved off her concerns with a smile. Really, Howard felt better than he had in many years. He attributed that mostly to the fact that he'd zapped Graham into unconsciousness that night; something he'd yearned to do for a long time.

And Vince had shown up at the Lodge that morning, sweaty and exhausted, but grinning and going on endlessly about his grand adventure with Fossil. Seems the two really _had_ hit it off, and on his way to their bench Howard had spotted Vince dancing about crazily with Fossil through the man's office window to blaring rock music. Howard's initial thought was to go in there and get the kid away from that creep, but he restrained himself. Fossil made no perverse advances on the kid, and the two were really just hopping about in his office, not even touching. Howard supposed he'd let it slide, for now. At least if he was with Fossil, the kid wasn't hanging around Naboo. The lesser of two evils, and all that.

Tristan now sat in Vince's spot, and the two ate in companionable silence. Occasionally the woman would again ask Howard if he were alright, and Howard would laugh and reassure her. Honestly, he'd expected to be a bit more..._emotional_ about this whole 'near-death-experience' thing; but really he felt just the same as ever. His right arm twinged a bit in the cold weather, but that was the extent of his lasting damage. He idly wondered if Vince's hip still ached him in the winter.

Tristan asked if he'd like to go out again that weekend, and Howard very gently declined. He just...really didn't like the thought of either himself or Vince being alone in the Lodge anymore. He wasn't sure why; maybe this was the emotional trauma the doctors had told him he might experience. Ah well, it wasn't so bad, Howard supposed. Tristan seemed to understand, patting his hand as they enjoyed his free time.

* * *

That afternoon as the hour grew late, Howard found himself leaving the hut in search for Vince. Maybe those doctors had been onto something after all; Howard had spent nearly two hours in there on his own waiting for the kid to come through the front door, and he'd eventually found it hard to breathe.

Rubbing his hand across his forehead as he called out the boy's name, Howard found it slick with sweat. He rounded a corner, and caught movement from the corner of his eye. It wasn't so much that it was _movement_. There was movement all around him, in the cages as animals burrowed into their beds for the night. No, this was movement where it shouldn't have been. Right in the back of Bollo's exhibit.

Stepping up to the bars, Howard grasped them loosely in his hands as he looked down on Vince, who was sitting against the back wall, knees pulled up and face hidden by his folded arms. Howard made certain to keep his voice soft, not wanting to startle the kid.

"Hey, Little Man. What, uh, what are you doing in there? It's night time, you know. Got to get some sleep."

Vince didn't verbally answer, but he did lift his head slightly, Howard catching the glint of his eyes through the shadows. Howard counted it as a good sign that the boy hadn't just ignored him like he sometimes did. Slowly the man crouched down onto his knees, slipping an arm through the bars, reaching out toward Vince with a beckoning gesture.

"Hey, why don't you come over here where we can talk, hmm?"

Vince just stared at him for a minute, but slowly the boy uncurled and pushed himself forward, still sitting on the leafy ground of the exhibit. He reached the bars, sitting himself in front of Howard, hands coming to grip the bars as his legs slid through to stretch out on either side of the older man. Vince was looking down at his hands, and Howard was about to question if he were alright when the boy spoke first, voice near a whisper.

"Sorry, Howard."

"What for?"

"For not bein' there, y'know...when Bollo killed you. I...you're always savin' me, Howard. And...the _one time _I coulda been there...Bollo never would've attacked you had I been there-"

"Now Vince, you don't know that-"

"Oh come on, Howard. You saw him; he stayed an entire night in the hut with you an' he never so much as growled. It's 'cause I was there..."

Vince sighed through his nose, still not looking Howard in the face, breath ghosting over them in the dropping temperature of the night air. Howard subconsciously pressed a bit closer to the bars, trying to somehow warm them both. Vince's voice rose a pitch as he continued, tone unsteady.

"I just wish, for once, that it was _me _who was, y'know, the hero. Like, that _I _could be the one to do the savin' for a change. Kept dreamin' of it, while I was up at Leroy's...tha's where I went to, by the way. Walked all the way to 'is house that day; I jus' couldn't go back, not yet. I kept imagining comin' into the hut, and rescuin' you from Bollo. Every night, though, I kept havin' this really weird dream. I dreamt that you'd died, and I was askin' Naboo to bring you back. It was strange, I can 'ardly remember it; all I can really remember is...my face. Seein' my own face, everywhere..."

Howard was now reaching through the bars and running a hand over the boy's head, settling on the back of his neck. Vince closed his eyes at this and sighed again, going silent. After a minute Howard stood up, stepping away from the enclosure.

"Come on now, time to go and get ready for bed."

* * *

The boy was once again huddled up next to him in their sleeping bags, and Howard found himself pressing back in the cold of the Lodge air. He really should get around to fixing all the cracks in the walls and roof. The old place was really starting to fall apart.

"Tell us a story, Howard. Not another zoo story, but a different one. A good one."

The boy's voice whispered out in the darkness, and Howard let his sleep-fogged mind float about, loosely constructing a tale for the kid.

"...There once was a great jazz musician-"

He heard Vince groan beside him, but the boy pressed his face into Howard's shoulder, and the man could tell he was grinning, so continued on.

"A great jazz musician by the name of...Jimmy Jefferson. Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson, he was called. And he lived in the heart of Louisiana, where true jazz was born. He floated about through the swamps on a little raft, and played his trumpet for all to hear. One day, though, he became incredibly ill, and died. But before he died, he performed a voodoo ritual, ingraining his soul into a vinyl of his best songs. And so now his soul is encased within the record, and whoever plays it is cast under his spell. He can possess them, and use them to continue playing his music, which he can't live without, even in death."

"...Tha' was a good story, Howard..."

Howard let out a whispered laugh at this, the boy's tone as he spoke made it clear he was already half-alseep. Soon loud snores sounded in the man's ears, but Howard was beyond accustomed to it by now, and drifted off peacefully soon after.

* * *

Howard sat poised over pen and paper, various lines written out haphazardly, only to be drawn through in thick ink soon after. The man had turned down two gigs since he'd gotten out of hospital, and apparently in the eyes of the musical industry that was a way of saying Howard thought himself too good for small-time setups; he didn't, really! He'd just wanted a break from all of that for a while. But just the day before he'd received a call with an invitation to perform a piano piece at a well-known theatre in three weeks. This was quite a big deal, and Howard had agreed after much stuttering. He was incredibly happy, but also very nervous. This wasn't a restaurant or club, where people come to eat and chat, and your music was just background noise. People paid money and came to sit down and observe you; actually listen closely to what you sang or played.

Howard cleared his throat, clearing his mind and focusing again on his task. Luckily he didn't have to sing for this performance, just play a bit on the piano, but Howard wanted to start writing his own lyrics. He couldn't rely on the boy's weird mind for all of the songs he sang. It felt quite like cheating, or something.

Looking down on the floor, Howard watched the kid for a minute. Vince was currently laying down across his and Howards' sleeping bags, book open and resting on his chest as he twirled his pencil between his fingers. He was staring up absently at the ceiling and singing lightly.

"..._With your see-through scorpion underbelly and your tiny little claws_..."

How the boy could just spout words like that always left Howard mystified. He supposed everyone had their gifts, but he would truly never understand this one.

"..._Hammering away at the pigeon's eyebrow_..."

The boy seemed to think it was time to stop singing, and rolled over slowly onto his stomach, book falling underneath him. He pulled the book from underneath him, and Howard had just a second to make out an eye from the overly-scribbled drawing before the boy was stooping over it, his jacket acting as a drape to hide the book away. Vince stared down at the book, picking up his green pencil once again and stabbing lightly onto the unseen page below him.

After a few minutes the kid deemed this enough and closed the book, standing up and placing it back into his dresser drawer. He then moved over to the sofa and flopped down next to Howard. He leaned slightly over to get a look at the newest words Howard had down. Howard happily let the boy see his one-liners, feeling very good about some of them.

The boy's face scrunched up as he read out the lyrics.

"'I've searched so long, traveled every single road, turned over every stone, but now I'm lost and I'm alone'...You can't be serious."

The man shot the teen an outraged look, Vince returning it with one of his own.

"What do you mean!? I think it's quite-"

"It's rubbish, Howard! It's not only depressin' as fuck, but it's_ boring_."

Vince grabbed the piece of paper from Howard's grasp, reading over the shot-through lines as well before giving a laugh that sounded as though he were in pain. He crumpled it up and threw it across the room. Howard sent him a glare and the two sat in silence before the man got an idea. He began scribbling quickly, leaning away when the boy tried to peek. _That _got the bugger's attention, and Vince was shifting impatiently, obviously expecting something brilliant.

Howard gave the kid a smirk as he showed him the notepad, fresh paper marred with a hasty line. Vince leaned in close to read it, brows drawn slightly in curiosity.

"'He's so bright, milky white, shining down upon the groun'- Oh fuck off, Howard!"

The older man laughed as Vince launched himself off the couch and down onto the gathered blankets with a dramatic groan. He glared up at the man, but it soon dissolved into laughter of his own. The teen then turned onto his back, returning to his staring up at the ceiling, humming lowly, occasionally throwing in words.

_"...Climbing up your head as if it were an elaborate child's climbing frame..."_

(You know...*sits forward* there are only five chapters left *suggestive smile* which means only five more chances to *raises eyebrow* review.)


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Christmas day was a quiet affair. It was largely spent huddled in the hut with the kid; Howard's duvet thrown over them both as they watched endless holiday themed movies, including the Colobus Winter Special.

Howard hadn't been able to purchase any gift for the kid. Hospital bills honestly were _not _worth it. Howard made a comment about just telling the doctors to let him bleed out next time, to which Vince laughed at. Thankfully the boy seemed to take pity on Howard's money situation, and didn't have a gift ready for the older man either. Howard was glad; the guilt would've really brought his mood down.

Howard opened his card from his mother, and smiled at the additional words written there. He waved the card at Vince.

"My mother says hi, and to not let me become too boring."

The boy gave him a look as to say "Oh how I try" and Howard clapped him lightly over the head with the card.

* * *

As the evening grew late, Howard untangled himself from the boy's limbs, which he flung all over Howard when he had whinged about wanting to lay down, and promptly flopped over the man. Howard moved into the bathroom where he had a quick shower and dressed in a nice new shirt Tristan had arrived with earlier that day, as a gift. Howard was incredibly embarrassed not to have a return present, and Tristan had waved off his apologies as Vince commented rather casually "Now you've gone and guilt-tripped 'im; he's gonna sulk about that all day." Howard had given the boy a vicious glare before sending Tristan off with a kiss and a time for her to pick them up for their date.

Reading his wristwatch, Howard surmised he had about fifteen minutes before she arrived. He donned his jacket and shoes, turning to the boy who was still laid over the couch, left arm dangling to the floor as Colobus smote his enemy onscreen. Howard wasn't exactly sure how to say what he needed to, and cleared his throat a few times, the boy looking up over the arm of the sofa at him.

"Um uh, I won't be...coming home tonight. I'm...going over to Tristan's, and I'll be there...so, just, uh, don't go out anywhere, alright? And don't let anyone in here or make a mess. Alright?"

The boy watched him ramble upside down, and was silent for a few seconds before giving an answer.

"Alright."

He then turned back to his show, and Howard quickly left the Lodge and the awkwardness he was feeling. He shivered in the cold, coming to stand outside the gate. The new guard greeted him with a familiar wave. Graham had resigned the day after Howard went at him with the baton. Fossil had called him into the office and gave Howard a very long stare, stating that Graham had reported being attacked by a manic stranger, and no longer felt safe working at the Zooniverse. He also told Howard that he knew it was him, and that he wasn't in any trouble.

"Hated that lousy piece of shit, anyway."

Fossil gave the remark with a smirk and dismissive wave to Howard, going back to his paperwork as the befuddled man walked out the office building, not sure whether to be pleased he'd see no more of Graham, or utterly defeated that the man had apparently forgotten his name again.

Tristan's car pulled up a few minutes early, honking lightly and giving Howard a smile. The man quickly seated himself in the warmth of the car, and they were off to the same little cafe they'd went to the last time. It was her favorite, Tristan had said.

* * *

Howard ran a hand tiredly over his eyes as he entered the Lodge front door, inspecting the hut for any signs of damage. Other than Vince's tackle box lying open on the sofa, nothing seemed out of place, and Howard walked over quietly to look down on the sleeping boy. It was still a few minutes before Howard's alarm clock would blare, and the man decided to let the kid sleep in a bit as he turned the device off and moved toward the kitchen.

Just then he noticed a slight smell in the air, near the kitchen window. Leaning over the counter Howard breathed in deeply, and groaned to himself as he recognised the scent. The boy had been smoking in his damn house while he'd been out. Howard sighed heavily, opting to just let it go this time, and turned on the coffee machine.

* * *

No one should've been surprised when it was announced that day that more animals had gone missing. This time it was the little flying squirrels. Moose was in total upheaval, pacing around as Fossil gave the news over the intercom. Howard felt bad for his friend, and wanted to be of comfort. But awkwardness and unease had taken over where trust and loyalty used to be in their bond, and Howard just kept to himself.

Vince was treating the whole ordeal rather like a murder mystery, throwing around ideas and suspicions over lunch, eyes bright with curiosity and excitement.

"How does he do it? The thief, I mean. No one's ever seen 'im; not even the new guard. Wonder how he gets in an' outta the zoo, with animals in his pockets, no less! He's like a phantom...I also wonder what some bloke would want with a bunch o' ruddy zoo animals. I mean, I love these guys, but they're not exactly top notch...You know what I think; I think he's some sorta mad scientist, and he's performin' all these, like, insane experiments. He's mixin' animals together, and so he needs the ones from our zoo. Brilliant!"

Howard just shook his head silently in mild amusement, letting the boy rabbit on to his heart's content. He had to admit he'd been turning ideas and motives in his head as well. Who _would_ steal a bunch of animals from a run-down zoo, and how did they always escape unnoticed? Like a phantom indeed.

It was announced that evening that Bainbridge would be coming by the Zooniverse again, and that he'd be giving some sort of speech. Fossil gave explicit instructions that every keeper was to report to the zoo lounge the next morning.

"That means you too Howard Moon and Vince Noir."

The man knew them too well.

* * *

Howard and Vince arrived late to the speech, and by then all the chairs had been filled, so the two resigned themselves to standing at the back. Fossil seemed to have worked hard on preparing the room. It had chairs lined up in neat rows, as well as a pedestal and dusty old projector through which Bainbridge showed pictures.

Howard mostly tuned the man out. He was talking some nonsense about coming back from a recent mission to find a jeweled egg in the arctic. As if that man had ever been to the arctic. Howard couldn't help the yawns and snide comments under his breath, and noticed from the corner of his eye that Fossil was practically bristling. Bainbridge seemed to have hand-drawn these stills, as they fit perfectly into his story. The next slide was that of a wolf attacking a moustached man.

"...The wolf attacked me, but fortunately, I had a pistol hidden in my moustache."

Now that was utter and complete bullshit in Howard's book. And he felt incredibly proud of Vince when the boy called out in a snide voice over the crowd.

"As if!"

Everyone glanced back at them for a moment before choosing to just ignore the pair. Bainbridge paused for a second in his speech to send Vince quite a scathing glance, before continuing.

"But the wolf took my hand."

"What, in marriage?"

Howard couldn't stop the mumbled jibe, said mostly for Vince, who was having a good laugh at every comment the older man made. Fossil jolted abruptly from his chair, coming to stand before the two, and Vince immediately tried to quell his smile and keep his head down meekly. Howard did the same. Bumbling as the man was, a truly angry Fossil was something to avoid.

"What do you two think this is, huh, a Parisian divorce court!? Listen, I don't wanna hear another word from you. This is a brilliant man, an action man! Now shut up, and fly right."

The man gave the pair one last glare before resuming his seat, Bainbridge waving dismissively at Howard and Vince with an air of dignity about him that made Howard want to chuck a chair at his face.

"That's alright, Fossil, let the little boys have their fun. Nice moustache by the way, Moon."

Alright now it was getting personal. Howard glared at Bainbridge, and then at Vince when the kid tried very hard to contain his giggling at the comment. Vince just shrugged good-naturedly up at the older man, and Howard sighed, once again tuning the lecture out.

After the whole egg story was over, Fossil seemed to think it was a good opportunity to bring to Dixon's attention the zoo thefts. Bainbridge's eyebrows drew downward as he listened to Fossil as he attempted to explain the situation, doing a pretty poor job of it. Finally the man seemed to hear enough.

"Alright, so what you're saying is that my animals have recently begun vanishing into the night? What the hell kind of security system do you have going here, Fossil!?"

"Well I-uh..."

The blue-shirted man floundered for a minute, and Vince apparently felt pity for him as he stepped forward, getting Bainbridge's attention.

"Well, y'see, this phantom's been comin' into the zoo, an' no one can seem to figure out how, or why. I think he's doin' mad experiments, perhaps even in the zoo itself, in some kinda hidden lab! I'm talkin' mutants, spliced up animals, all livin' right beneath our noses!"

Howard put a hand over his eyes. It was one thing for the boy to ramble on about this with him, but entirely another for the kid to go spouting it to Bainbridge. Howard stepped forward and wrapped a hand around the boy's wrist, pulling him toward the door. Vince was sending him a sharp, questioning glare, but didn't put up a struggle. Howard just nodded to everyone, exiting the building.

"Sorry, uh, just ignore him. He's just kidding around..."

The man cleared his throat as the other keepers stared at Vince like he was some sort of freak. This was exactly what Howard had managed to avoid for an entire year. Howard knew deep down that he was being daft; overly paranoid, but he really didn't want the staff to know what he knew. That Vince was insane. Probably certifiable. If they did, they might make fun of the boy, or try and get him sacked.

The teen obviously didn't see Howard's charity. As they exited the office building he tore away from Howard, continuing to glare up at the man.

"What was that for!? I was just explainin' what's been goin' on!"

Howard held his hands up in a placating gesture. If he could avoid a tantrum then it would be mission accomplished for the day.

"I know, Vince, I know. But...um..."

Howard searched about in his mind for something reassuring to say, but he wasn't quick enough, as Vince's face went a bit blank.

"Ah, I get it. Don't let the freak speak up in front o' people. I was jus' trying to help."

"I know that, Vince, and I'm sorry. You're not a freak, I just...I don't want you going on like that in front of people."

The man winced; that came out a bit wrong. Vince just nodded, turning and heading for the Boudoir. Howard sighed, running a hand through his hair before making for his own post. Keepers were now filing out of the building. The lecture seemed to be over.

* * *

Howard felt bad unloading on Tristan, but once they were in the quiet of the cafe he just felt all his worries tumbling out of his mouth. He spoke of the mystery of the animal disappearances, and how the night patrol thing wasn't being of much help, and how Vince had been upset with him since his little slip up on words. He told Tristan of Vince's...imaginative way of thinking, fearing that she would call the kid mad or an idiot. He was relieved when she said nothing of the sort, just stated that everyone had different ways of thinking, some were just more noticeable than others. Howard had smiled at that, feeling much better after rambling blindly for over an hour. To her credit, Tristan was a fantastic listener, and if she ever tired of Howard's endless complaints she never once let onto it.

"...So are you coming to my performance? It's this Thursday night, so we can't go out after or anything like that. And I suspect I'll have my hands full keeping the kid from getting piss drunk. Gideon said she was showing up, and I invited Joey but...he gave some excuse about being busy. I just don't know what to do about him. I mean, he's my best mate but...he and I just don't see eye to eye anymore. He's _convinced _that Vince is some sort of maniacal little demon child, like something from a horror film."

Howard and Tristan laughed at that mental image, and Howard knew he was being a bit dramatic about what Moose had said concerning the kid. But Joey was the one being dramatic, so Howard allowed himself a bit of venting against his friend.

Tristan looked sad, laying her hand over Howard's, her voice apologetic.

"Sorry, Howard. I have to visit with my mom and dad for a while. It's their anniversary soon, so it's kind of a 'no avoidance' deal."

"That's alright, you can come to my next show. And hey, when will you be singing again? I want to come to your gigs as well."

"I don't get as many calls as you, Howard. I'm not nearly as talented."

"Yes you are."

* * *

Howard showed up to the theatre three hours early, mostly because he literally had nothing better to do after work hours, and the kid had whinged endlessly about being bored. Howard was surprised to find the place nigh on deserted. The manager was heard in a back office talking loudly on a phone, but other than him Howard and the kid were alone.

It wasn't a massive room, but it had a high ceiling, and Vince whistled and shouted obscene things, grinning at the echo as Howard laughed and tried to cover the boy's mouth.

There was a very lovely white grand piano on the stage, and Vince had nearly flown off into the roof when Howard sat down and began playing a tune.

"You can play that thing!? _Since when_!?"

Howard couldn't suppress a slight glow in his cheeks at how adorably squeaky the kid's voice got when he was excited or the look of utter awe that overcame him as he stared down at Howard.

"Since I was a boy, Vince."

"But you never said...well look at you, Howard Moon and his many secrets. Seems you're not as see-through as I thought."

Howard wasn't certain how to feel about that, and so settled for smug. The piano had an autoplayer, and the man got an idea. He turned it on, listening to the song as the keys moved about on their own. He stood nervously, and Vince seemed to pick up on that, losing his grin and staring up at the man curiously.

"So, what say I teach you how to do a waltz?"

"Seriously, Howard?"

"Well you don't have to-"

The man felt incredibly awkward, but what else was there to do in an empty theatre with a piano playing a tune except dance? And Howard doubted the boy knew any kind of refined dancing that didn't involve flailing to techno or goth rock. Well, no time like the present to instill _some_ civilization into the Mowgli-child. Vince didn't give Howard time to finish his sentence; he was stepping up closer to the man and silently offering his hands, not really sure where to place them.

After a few minutes of instructing the kid on how to step the two found a steady rhythm, and the tenseness slowly left the man's stature. The boy was staring down at their shoes, making sure he didn't trod on the older man's feet. Suddenly he was looking up, once again displaying his talent for asking completely random and often embarrassing questions.

"D'you ever want a family, Howard? Like, did you ever used to dream of gettin' a pretty little wife an' having kids. White fence an' all that."

The man felt his neck grow warm as he considered the question. After a minute he decided to just be honest. It was only the kid, after all. He knew Vince wouldn't go telling everyone things that Howard said when it was just the two of them.

"Well, yes. I mean, when I was younger I used to think about it a lot. Quite a lot, actually. Guess it was mostly my mother's doing. From as far back as I can remember she's always been asking on about any girls I might've taken a fancy to. Um...but yeah, I used to want a family. I mean, I suppose we _all _do, eventually. It's funny, I used to have a perfect little mental picture in my head. I had a nice wife, who was smart and witty and loved jazz as much as I do-"

Howard wacked Vince lightly over the arm when the boy made mock gagging sounds, and continued.

"-And I pictured having a kid. I always just wanted one, actually. _Maybe_ two, but I never wanted a big family. My father has five brothers, and when they all got together it always ended in fights or arguments. My mother used to say she was so happy she'd been an only child. And uh..."

Now Howard knew he was blushing, and having the boy watch him as they slowly rotated on the empty stage wasn't helping matters. Sometimes Howard thought the boy to be a bit psychic; as what he was about to say had been on his mind when he offered the dance in the first place. He found his voice getting more low and mumbled as he spoke, hoping that the kid might not actually hear him.

"And in my mind, I always pictured a little girl. Don't know why...I just never really thought about having a son. And I'd sit and play my guitar and think about one day teaching my daughter to play, and, y'know, maybe even dancing with her..."

Vince was giving Howard a face he wasn't sure _had _a word to describe it.

"That's _sweet_, Howard. You never told any of this before."

"Well it's not exactly the kind of thing a grown man goes spreading around to people."

"Still, I think it's sweet. So...do you ever think you _will _have a daughter?"

"Don't I already have one?"

Vince's unnamable expression quickly changed to one of outrage and amusement, eyebrows rising and grin sliding up the side of his face.

"Oh I see now, Mr Moon's bein' funny."

Howard broke out into laughter, and the boy followed, their feet stumbling a bit as they tried to continue turning as they both laughed, filling the theatre with their echos.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Vince's birthday was equally as quiet as Christmas. Leroy hadn't been able to show up, as his baby and girlfriend were both ill. He did tell the kid over the phone that he'd be there that Sunday, and Vince was obviously very excited about his planned day out with his best friend.

The kid was also chuffed to bits over turning seventeen, even though Howard couldn't help slipping in a few driving jokes as they ate ice cream and had a Colobus marathon into the night.

Vince also wore Howard's gift with as much pride as he had the white cowboy hat. It was definitely the shoddiest present Howard had ever gotten someone, but he was scraping by with groceries and payments as it was. And it was the only thing at the little boutique within Howard's price range that he knew the boy would at least tolerate. The kid had assured Howard that he loved it very much, and the little black and pink wristband was currently on his left wrist, Vince proclaiming his intention of never taking it off. Howard had replied that he should do well to remove it during work if he didn't want it covered in dirt and animal food. For once the boy had seen his logic.

* * *

Vince was currently digging about in his dresser drawers, looking for a good shirt to wear. He'd neglected to do his laundry, and Howard forced himself not to do it for him, merely reminding Vince casually every afternoon until finally the kid had no clean clothes to wear.

Now he silently observed as the kid let out a cry of victory, holding up an old yellow shirt, wrinkled horribly but apparently passing Vince's cleanliness test as the boy sniffed it and nodded in satisfaction.

He pulled the shirt over his head, covering his skinny torso. He made to close the bottom drawer, pausing and letting loose another shout.

"Holy shit!"

Howard was sitting straight, alert and concerned.

"What? What is it?"

The boy grinned and pulled a small video camera from the tangle of clothing and items. He looked over at Howard, who sat back with a huff.

"Forgot I even had this! I'm gonna take it with me when Leroy shows."

The boy instantly searched about for the box of blank tapes, finding them quickly and popping one into the recorder. Leroy chose this moment to knock at their door, and Vince was up and outside with his friend, shouting his goodbyes to Howard and already laughing with the taller young man.

Howard sat in the stillness for a few minutes, shifting about in his seat and turning the volume on the tv up quite a bit. He was resolved not to go into a panic. He was going to get over this strange fear of being alone in the Lodge if it killed him! It was ridiculous! He knew it was; Bollo was dead. Howard had spent seven years alone in this old hut, and he'd never come to any harm. So why was he sweating so much?

Time crawled by and Howard tried desperately not to count minutes. Eventually he had the volume all the way up, even though he knew this would only agitate the animals, and he was focusing so intently on the show playing out in front of him that he wasn't even sure what was happening in it.

As night descended and the windows grew dark, the boy came back, and Howard attempted not to look as relieved as he felt. The kid, of course, picked up on this immediately.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Vince."

The man smiled calmly at the kid, and the boy looked as if he were going to reply, but Howard noticed something in his hand. He pointed to it, asking what it was, and Vince grinned as he moved over to his dresser, setting the recorder down and walking back toward Howard.

"This is Cheekbone. It's this amazin' magazine. Saw it in a shop with Leroy and got to readin' it. It's incredible! I never really thought much about the style, but this thing has so much cool stuff in it. Like this Mod suit, see? I'd love to have that. I'd wear it everywhere! And this lunchbox is pretty cool. Look at all these really popular new bands. The Mod Wolves, that's the famous one. They're apparently tourin' the country as we speak! Maybe they'll choose a spot near here an' I can go watch 'em."

Howard took hold of the magazine, flipping through it and making faces at the little Pop models and various clothing they had for order. Just when he thought fashion couldn't take a step further down the shithole. Vince leaned over Howard, turning the pages until he reached what he wanted. It was two pages dedicated to a man; in each photo of him he stared directly into the camera, face almost dour. It was very offputting.

"Who's this prize tool?"

"That's Über Mod. He's like the king of the entire Mod fashion. But that's all gonna soon change. My hair's _loads_ thicker than 'is! With a bit of hairspray, I bet you I could top his highest length within the month!"

"Vince...you're not going to spray your hair so that it stands up on top of your head like that. You'll look ridiculous. You'll look like...flippin' Antoinette or something."

Vince grinned, not seeming put off in the slightest.

"That's what Leroy said. He told me I was barmy, but bought me the magazine anyway, heh."

Vince proudly took back his magazine and proceeded to flop down onto his stomach on his sleeping bag, paging through the articles and photos.

That night he made multiple attempts to phone in and order various items from the catalogue, and Howard had to intercept him several times. Eventually the man confiscated the magazine and told Vince to get to bed. The boy had proceeded to sulk the rest of the night and into the morning.

* * *

The amount of animals disappearing was beyond alarming. Now it was just downright unthinkable. Multiple animals from multiple exhibits were gone in single nights. And before Howard could completely process it, their zoo had only a handful of animals left. It was horrible, and Fossil had taken to giving guests group tours around the zoo, just so he could explain how many of the creatures were 'hiding' or 'blending in with their natural environment'.

Howard was becoming increasingly depressed as the zoo quite literally fell down around him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Police had been informed of the recurrent theft, and were on high alert for any news or sign of someone harboring animals in the area.

Howard was also incredibly frustrated. He just couldn't seem to write a good song! Everything he wrote was shit, and what he _did _think was passable the kid immediately tore into. The boy was beginning to make Howard very cross. He had a new gig coming up that weekend and really wanted a song of his own to sing. Vince had already written up one for him, but he was determined to try his hardest to do this one completely on his own.

* * *

"Hey, Moon. I got a job for ya."

Howard looked up from where he was carrying a bucket of bird feed back to the zoo storage, having finished feeding all the zoo's remaining birds. Vince's own marsupials and reptiles were completely gone; all he had to tend to were the various rodents.

"What is it, Fossil? I'm very busy."

"Shut it, Moon. Listen, there's gonna be a visitor at our zoo later on, and I heard from a reliable source that she makes donations to places she likes. Now, apparently this woman loves gorillas, so I want you to put on a gorilla suit and run around in Bollo's old cage. I already got the suit and everything back in my office-"

"No way, Fossil. Go ask someone else, or better yet, why don't _you _dress up."

"Did I say I was giving you a choice, Moon?"

"The answer is _no_. Good day, Mr Fossil."

The man stared long and hard at Howard, before finally walking away. Howard considered it a victory, up until he went to check on the boy, only to find Fossil shoving a gorilla suit into his arms and telling him he was to act as Bollo.

Vince looked incredibly unsure and slightly devastated at the prospect of pretending to be his dead ape friend. Howard quickly stepped forward, ripping the suit from the boy's loose grasp and shoving it back at Fossil, who glared up at him.

"This is none of your concern, Moon-"

"No it _is_ my concern. You will _not_ go around ordering Vince to do things I told you I wouldn't. You hear me? I catch you trying any of this again, I'll be ensuring the Zooniverse's need for a new manager. Got it?"

The man thundered away in fury, and Vince looked torn between wanting to stay on Fossil's good side and _really_ not wanting to dress up as Bollo. Howard patted him reassuringly over the back, and then returned to his own post, very glad that it was only a half hour before break.

The lady really _did _arrive, and Fossil led her around the zoo, avoiding Bollo's cage as long as possible. Eventually the woman outright asked to see him, and Fossil reluctantly brought her to it. She didn't believe him for an instant when he claimed the ape to be camouflaged. She left the zoo quite put off, muttering about the rubbish littering the ground and the lack of animals. Howard was torn between being incredibly embarrassed over the condition of the zoo, and smug as all hell as Fossil kicked a bin repeatedly.

* * *

This performance was quite easier on Howard's nerves than the last one. For one thing, it was simply a local club, and everyone was too busy dancing wildly to really pay much mind to the artists as they played and sang.

Once he was through with his song, (Vince's song; Howard had given up. Goddammit.) The man joined Tristan at a booth. They ordered drinks, talking idly and watching Vince as he jumped around in the crowd, coming back every few minutes to pull on Howard's arm, begging the man to dance with him.

"We can slow dance if you want! Like back at the theatre; it don't have to be no crazy dancin' like these guys are doin'."

Howard had went red and refused the boy again and again, and eventually Vince had given up with a huff, moving off. Tristan grinned questioningly across the table at the man.

"Slow dance? What's he mean?"

"I ah, at the theatre...we arrived early and so I taught Vince to dance a bit."

He didn't _dare_ mention the heartwarming conversation they'd had. That was to stay between him and the kid. Tristan smiled brightly at him, making him feel a little bit less like a tit.

"Aw, that's so cute, Howard!"

Okay, more of a tit now. He slid down a bit in his seat as the woman beamed at him, going on about how she wished she could've seen it, and how adorable Howard must've looked 'dancing with his kid'.

'_Oh god, someone just get into a massive pub fight and knock me out in the crossfire_.'

Suddenly Vince was coming back up to the table, mouth opening in a grin, and Howard raised his hand up at him, not even looking.

"No, Vince, for the last time I will _not_ go dance."

"Doubt you _could_, really."

Okay that wasn't Vince's voice. Howard looked up to find Naboo standing next to the boy, who was now looking a bit on edge at the already tensing atmosphere. The kid quickly began speaking, gesturing at Naboo and over to Tristan.

"Naboo, this is Tristan Butler. She's Howard's girlfriend. Howard, this is Rudi van Disarzio. He's a musician too!"

Howard hadn't noticed the third member of the group, and nodded up at the tall man. He was even taller than Howard, dark skin slightly sweaty, which meant he most likely just got through with his performance. Those spotlights practically burned. The man had quite a large afro, with a little purple door placed onto the front of it. He was also sporting some odd purple robes, and Howard wasn't sure if he looked incredibly out of place in the middle of this club, or if he fit in perfectly.

The man gave a short bow to them all, and Vince was launching excitedly into speech once more.

"He's super famous! Naboo's known 'im for years. Rudi here's been to the Desert of Nightmares and back, and even managed to find the New Sound! That's why he's so talented."

Rudi smiled down at the teen, looking quite smug at the boy's obvious admiration. Howard noted his dilated pupils in the low light and dearly hoped the boy didn't demand to leave with them. Naboo was looking a bit like he was on another planet, mostly tuning them all out entirely.

"Thank you, Mr Noir, for those kind words. It is true, I was able to discover the New Sound. I made an album about my journey. You can find it in most stores, by the way."

Naboo seemed to snap back to the present, and nudged Rudi, looking up at the taller man.

"Hey, we gotta go meet the boys."

"Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. Well, it was nice to meet you all. Always remember to open your mind, and there your quests begin! For if you look into a pebble, you will see your own face."

With that the two men moved off, and Howard took a second to stare after them, Rudi's words making absolutely no sense in his mind. The boy took this opportunity to grab up Howard's drink from his grasp, downing it in one before the man could pull it back. He had set a limit for how much the boy could drink when they went out, but Vince occasionally found underhanded ways around it; namely just stealing Howard's drinks. The boy grinned in response to Howard's glare and dove back into the throng of moving bodies.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Apparently Bainbridge had never left the zoo, as he normally did after stopping by for a day. And also Howard found out to his relief that he wasn't the only one up in arms over the vanishing animals.

The man heard raised voices sometime after lunch hour, and walked toward the sound. It was in front of the office building, and nearly every keeper was crowding around Dixon, asking him what he planned on doing about the situation. The man seemed entirely unimpressed and tried to brush off the inquiries, but many of the keepers were fed up, and kept prodding him for answers. Fossil was standing off to the side, looking unsure as to whether he should assist Bainbridge or the keepers. Howard also noticed the kid was standing beside him, looking slightly concerned but altogether just observing the scene as it progressed.

Dixon was now visibly angry, and made to move forward beyond the people. Gideon stepped in his way, demanding that he hire more security for the zoo. Bainbridge's response was to shove her away, causing the woman to lose her footing and fall to the ground. Fellow staff bent to help her up as Bainbridge huffed and began to walk away. Howard was having none of that. No, sir! He stepped forward, raising his voice.

"Hey, Bainbridge! You ought to watch how you treat these people, or one day you'll end up looking at a zoo with no staff."

Bainbridge turned to face him, laughing at the taller man.

"You think so, Moon? Trust me, you can all quit, and I'll just hire more zookeepers. You know why? Because no matter what, there will _always_ be lowlife scum like yourself, desperate for a job."

"Kick his ass, Howard!"

Howard sighed in the boy's direction. Vince and his goddamn mouth. Everyone was now looking between the two men, most seeming to _really _want a good fight to take place. This wasn't so good. Howard really didn't want to fight. Especially not with someone whom he knew for a fact was quite skilled in martial arts. It was the main reason no one had ever just decked Bainbridge and been done with it. The shorter man just glanced over at the boy and laughed again.

"Moon? Fight me? You're letting your mouth get ahead of you, Noir. This man wouldn't stand a chance against me."

"Howard can kick _your _mouth 'round the back o' your head, you ijit!"

Vince stepped toward them, and a few keepers began to chant "Fight!" as Howard wished the kid would just shut up. Luckily for him, Bainbridge didn't rise to the tauntings, and merely walked off with an air of someone who had won without having to even raise his fists. He was right.

* * *

"You shoulda kicked him into next month, Howard!"

"And you should've just left well enough alone!"

Howard and Vince were currently in the Lodge, sitting on the sofa as a chilly breeze could be heard whistling through the hut. Vince looked incredibly agitated, and sat forward, looking at the older man.

"_C'mon_, Howard. Don't you know how to fight? I can! Me uncle back in Mitcham owns a boxing business, an' he trained me up good. Said I needed to learn how to defend myself."

"Your uncle?"

"Well, he ain't my _real _uncle, but he taught me to fight, and let me hang around the boxin' ring."

Rain could be heard hammering down upon the roof suddenly. It had been overcast for several days, so Howard wasn't surprised. It sounded like quite a storm, and Howard placed pots in various locations on the floor where water dripped through. Seems the Lodge was finally beginning to crumble; cracks and holes growing larger, it seemed, every day.

As he was placing a bowl onto the kitchen counter to combat another dripping stream, Howard heard the distinctive sound of a lighter, and whipped around to look across the room at the kid, who was standing next to his dresser, cigarette in his mouth, trying to light it. He noticed Howard's stare.

"Wot?"

"...Why the _hell _are you doing that? Did I ever say you could smoke in the house, Vince?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing! I'll not have you polluting the air in _my_ house with that rubbish. I hate that you do it at all!"

"Oh not this again, Howard. Come on, where am I supposed to go, hmm?"

"You can go outside."

"But it's rainin'!"

"So don't smoke, then. Either you step outside with that thing or you stay in. Your choice."

Howard really thought he'd won this time. But he should've remembered how spiteful the boy could be. With a glare the kid made for the front door, fag and lighter in hand, and was out the door before Howard could think of a way to stop him without letting him smoke indoors. Well, at least there was the overhang. That would offer the boy shelter from the rain. Though Howard mentally winced at the thought of the wind blowing outside. But he had to be firm! So with a huff the man sat down once again in front of the television, which had become fuzzy due to the weather.

Howard made it twenty-five minutes before he finally was up and out the door, ready to haul the kid back inside. He was also worried as to why the boy had taken so long just to smoke a single cigarette. As Howard searched about for the teen he got his answer.

Yards away, out from under the protection of the overhang, was Vince. He was running around in the torrent, splashing in puddles and seeming to be dancing to music only he heard. Howard shouted out his name a few times before the boy finally heard him, stopping to stare at the man. Howard made a '_Get over here now_!' gesture, but the boy only grinned and continued to happily frolic in the storm, clothes and hair drenched, the last traces of his eyeliner leaking down his cheeks.

"Vince, you get back inside now! You're going to catch your death!"

Thunder rolled overhead, cutting off most of Howard's words. The man walked completely out the door, closing it behind him and shivering underneath the overhang. Vince gave him another smile, finally walking toward him. He didn't let Howard pull him toward the door, but stood just outside the overhang's protection, rain beating down on him. He had to shout in order for his voice to be heard over the endless noise.

"You should come out here, Howard! It's great!"

"It's freezing!"

Vince just tilted his head up at him with a grin, turning and running back off into the rain. Howard watched the boy for a few minutes, recalling from nowhere a time when he would dangle the boy over water puddles, or when the kid used to jump from footprint to footprint in snow. Howard sighed heavily, and when Vince came up to him a second time, he allowed him to take Howard by the hand and pull him forward and out from under the shelter. He gasped sharply as the cold water made first contact with his clothes, straight through to his skin and down to his bones. He shivered as he stood rigidly, completely drenched in seconds, his shoulders instinctively rising and his arms plastered to his sides. Vince immediately began laughing hard.

"You look like a drowning rat!"

"Thanks. Are you happy now? I'm out here, so let's both go back inside."

"Oh alright, you boring old man."

Vince allowed Howard to shepherd him inside, where Howard then immediately pushed the kid into the bathroom, ordering him to be quick about it as he closed the door. The man stood shivering like a wet cat in the Lodge, not wanting to sit on the sofa in his dripping clothes as he heard the boy starting up the shower. Vince was only in for a few minutes before stepping out in a towel, moving aside as Howard nearly tripped over him in his haste. He was fucking freezing! The hot water made him feel like his skin was melting, and Howard really hoped he wouldn't get sick. If he became ill, that boy was going to pay for it.

* * *

Vince sneezed violently, face scrunching up in a dramatic expression of annoyance.

"Oh god, I _hate _sneezin'!"

Howard walked from the kitchen with eyebrows raised down at the teen.

"Well maybe next time you'll think twice about prancing around in the rain like a water nymph. Here, take this."

"What is it?"

"It's medicine, just take it."

"No way."

"Vince."

Howard stood beside the sofa, which was being occupied by an ill Vince. It was the morning after the storm, and a softer rain was still falling. Howard had work in a few minutes, and was attempting to get the boy settled before he was late. The teen was entirely unhappy with being confined to the Lodge, and so was being as big a brat as possible, the little titbox! He sniffled, looking extremely petulant as he glared from beneath Howard's duvet.

"Why do I 'ave to stay in!? It's gonna be so borin'! C'mon, Howard, I can still work. It's not like I have that many animals to tend anyway-"

"Exactly. Which is why it'll be incredibly easy for me to cover both our posts. Now _stay here_. I'm serious, Vince, I want you resting. Now drink the medicine."

"Why?"

"Because you're sick, and it's good for you. Come on. I'm not leaving 'til you do."

"Good, I don' wanna be here alone."

"_Vince_! I'm going to count to three! One...two!"

"Alright alright! Jesus..."

Luckily the boy always backed down on two; Howard wasn't really sure what he'd do if he ever actually reached three.

Vince took the small cup containing the cold medicine Howard had stored away years ago in case he'd ever gotten sick. Now the kid was choking it down with a sharp grimace and gagging sounds as Howard took back the cup.

Howard raised his hands in a victorious gesture, and Vince made a face at him. The man gave the boy a smile, promising to return at lunch hour, and left through the door with a string of threats and warnings should the boy leave the Lodge.

* * *

Howard walked back in through the hut door, followed by Tristan. She'd once again surprised him by showing up at his free hour, her own lunch prepared. He found it extremely endearing.

The man looked over at Vince, who was pointing a video camera at the both of them silently. Howard sighed, letting the boy be as he followed Howard's movement into the kitchen to fetch their food. Tristan seemed a little confused, and so Howard nodded in the kid's direction from the fridge.

"Vince is sick, demonstrating just what happens when you run around in a thunderstorm."

"Get off it."

Vince's words came out as an uninterested monotone, as the recorder obstructed the view of most of his face. Howard came over with Vince's plate and cup, and the boy groaned as he sat up, shivering a bit as he folded his legs underneath him. He set the camera down as he took his food, and Howard opted to just sit on the sleeping bags with his own lunch, Tristan joining him. She laughed at Howard's words, looking over at the teen.

"You went out in the storm!? Well, I hope you get well soon, Vince. Do you have any medicine for him? I can go down to the shops if-"

"No no, it's fine. I have a bit of my own. It's old, but it still does its job. He's looking a bit better already, actually. Think you'll be up for working tomorrow, Vince?"

"Dunno. Will you _let _me work tomorrow?"

The boy answered with his fork in his right hand and the recorder in his left, aimed again at the pair on the floor. Howard gave the boy a pointed look, to which Vince responded in silence.

Said silence only lasted a minute before the boy was focusing on his food, camera now aimed toward the floor. But the kid wasn't eating; he was merely pushing his food about as he sang lightly in between small hums.

"_Oh, ladders to the moon, with your cardboard page three...paisley silver eyes_."

Tristan watched the kid a moment before sending a perturbed look Howard's way.

"Um..."

"Oh don't worry, he does that all the time."

Howard ignored the boy's antics and finished his lunch, proceeding to spend the rest of his break talking casually with Tristan, the kid eating slowly, alternating between ignoring the two and humming, and focusing the video camera on them both.

(Holy hell I am freaking out out there's only two chapters left! I've completely finished them, and dang are they long! I just couldn't find a place to stop! If you wanna a clue as to what's about to go down, give a listen to Congratulations by Blue October ;) Reviews are appreciated as always.)


	37. Chapter 37

Listened to Congratulations by Blue October for the whole of this fic, and it greatly inspired a few plot points throughout. God this song, you guys. Seriously, youtube it now. This man who sings it, he's like an extraordinary combo of Vince and Howard.

The song symbolises Vince entirely. He's watching as Howard's life becomes amazing, ideal, and he just feels a bit lost as his own goes nowhere. I especially love the line "_My mind, it kinda goes fast. I'll try to slow it down for you_." That's so Vince it hurts! Since I can't tell you what Vince thinks in the story itself, these songs are a good way around that. But seriously, those of you who are as dedicated to music as I am, give this song a listen as you read, you won't regret it ;) some pretty heavy stuff is in store, and the song really illustrates Vince's thoughts on everything.

Chapter 37

Spring was now fully descended over Wimbledon as Howard went about his daily chores in the Zooniverse. Thankfully, no other animals had yet to vanish in the last couple weeks, but now the zoo was down to only a few left. They rarely ever had guests anymore, and Howard was dreading the inevitable notice they all would get about salary cuts; or worse, zoo staff cuts.

Bainbridge had also raised the Lodge monthly fee higher, and Howard was more than a bit panicked at the fact that he wouldn't be able to afford the Lodge _and_ plenty of food for him and the kid. He'd had many a discussion with Tristan and Gideon and even a small talk with Moose over it, and all had agreed on one solution.

All the preparations were now being made, but Howard had yet to inform the boy. Knowing from past experience that waiting until the last moment was a horrible mistake, Howard swallowed his nerves and brought up the subject with the kid as they both sat one night in front of the tv.

"Vince, uh...Listen, I've got something serious I want to discuss with you."

"Hmm?"

Good, he had the boy's attention. Vince was now facing him, expression of curiosity in full force. Howard swallowed again before continuing.

"Well, it's about the Lodge. I...we can't afford to keep living here, Vince. Not under Bainbridge. So, Tristan and I have come up with a solution. We've been looking around for flats, and managed to find a two-bedroom further uptown. We've already been to see it, and it's small, but nice. And between myself and Tristan we can afford it. We'll even be within driving distance of the zoo. We'll of course have to take the bus until I can buy a car..."

Howard shut himself up. Give the kid a chance to process it.

The boy stared over at Howard blankly for a long while, until Howard eventually found he had to say _something_ to dispel the silence.

"You're coming too, of course. We'll have to leave most of this stuff behind, I'm afraid. Zoo property and all. But with how smoothly things are going we should be able to move in within t-"

"_I'm_ not movin'."

"Wha- Vince, you can't just stay here on your own."

"And why not?"

"Because you can't _afford _it. Now, I know this place means a lot to you; trust me, it's difficult for me too. But it's not like we'll never see it again-"

"I'm still not going! And you shouldn't either! Everythin' is fine here, and we'll find a way to stay. I'll use _my _money to help-"

"No. I want you saving that, and I mean it. That money's for you in case you ever decide to go back to school, or for your own car-"

"_I'm not fuckin' drivin'_! Why do you want to do this, Howard; why do you want to take us out of here!?"

The boy was now yelling, standing from the sofa to pace about in circles. Howard was up as well, standing before the teen, arms out in a calming gesture. He'd been expecting theatrics, maybe waterworks. But this wasn't the kid being a brat. This was true alarm and devastation.

"Vince, it's not like that at all. Listen, you're just being dramatic-"

"I don't wanna move into a stupid uptown flat with _Tristan_! Why does she want you to move out, anyway!?"

Howard really wasn't liking the face and tone the boy pulled when saying Tristan's name. The kid continued to circle about, breathing audibly in the still room. Inside, Howard was quite alarmed; it was like Vince was having a fit or panic attack. The man held his hands palms outward, tone becoming exasperated against his will.

"Tristan doesn't want me to move, Vince, we have to! Now you stop acting crazy!"

"Crazy!? Ever since you met that girl _you've_ been the crazy one, Howard. And _god_, you don' even see it! You're always out with her on weekends, spendin' the night with her, havin' fun with her, fuckin' around with her! You don' think I can't hear all them shitty late-night phone calls you make to each other!? And now she wants you to _move_; to take us out of our house, Howard!"

"First off Vince, that's not insanity, that's a little thing called_ love_. Something which I'm not sure you understand at times. Secondly, _Tristan does not want me to move! We have to_!"

"Well I'm not."

"Yes hell you are! You're moving into the flat with me and Tristan. You cannot stay here alone, Vince!"

"Yes I can, and I am!"

With that the boy was storming out the door, and Howard hastily made for the kitchen window, peeking out to watch where he went. Luckily Vince just continued circling in the darkness in front of the hut. Howard walked back over to the couch, falling down onto it with a deep inhale. He really should've been used to this part of his life by now, but he was always side-swiped by these moments of pure rage from the kid. He just couldn't understand why the boy was so riled up about moving! If anything, _Howard_ should be more choked up about it, having spent far longer in the Keeper Lodge. The way he'd paced, his ragged breathing, it reminded Howard of when the kid had been a child, breaking his things and screaming words of hate at a young Howard for moving away. It just didn't make sense in Howard's head.

The man lay his head back, closing his eyes with a long, slow exhale. No matter what the kid shouted, he was moving into the flat; even if Howard had to pack all his things for him and then drag him away.

* * *

The days passed. Howard had begun moving things into the new apartment. The Lodge was becoming more bare as time went. The boy had blankly ignored Howard's requests to start packing the things he didn't need on a daily basis. And so Howard had went around the hut, tearing down all of the kid's paper plates and pictures, stuffing them into a cardboard box. He also grabbed Vince's tackle box and put both into Tristan's car when she arrived that day for another afternoon of moving things. The boy had sat absolutely still the entire time, book clenched in his grasp, not even watching the other two.

Howard made a point of ignoring the kid right back when Tristan was there, making happy, casual talk as they moved back and forth between her vehicle and the Lodge. They both soon decided to break for lunch, laughing quietly.

"And so then he came barreling down the hall in nothing but his tie. Needless to say my father didn't speak to me for a few weeks."

Howard was laughing hard as Tristan finished her tale of the time she's dated a man from her father's work. Howard was caught between reveling in the hilarity of it all, feeling second-hand embarrassment for the poor man, and being surprised at Tristan's rather 'adventurous' lovelife that she'd had. In comparison he felt rather like a schoolboy.

For a moment of silence as they both continued eating, Howard found himself caught up in the happy, light feeling that he had found the perfect woman. All his long-winded speeches made to Joey and then Vince over the years, carrying on about how 'the one' would be his equal in all ways. Now he found that was false. Tristan was in no way his equal, but in every way his better. He was still in shock that she'd even noticed him in the first place all those months ago. Howard couldn't stop the smile that overcame his features, images of a pretty wife and little girl dancing above his head as he leaned sideways toward the woman, words coming out soft and unsure as nerves almost caused him to halt his speech. He didn't dare look at her.

"I love you."

Tristan's fork paused over the bowl of salad held below her chin, she stayed that way for all of a second before Howard heard a soft snort come from beside him. Howard's eyes widened in surprise and he turned to see Tristan's body tremble slightly with her held in laughter. Howard's voice broke slightly as it raised in pitch.

"Are you _laughing_?"

Another snort, followed by a "No" Had Howard feeling the beginnings of outrage wash over him. Was what he said really so funny? Hell, he sure wasn't seeing the humor in it! That was a big deal! It was the first time he'd said it, and Howard honestly had expected something a little more...reciprocating. But his eyebrows only lowered as he watched Tristan burst into quiet laughter, face hidden by her hair.

"I've just told you I love you, why are you laughing!?"

"You make me laugh. I'm sorry, Howard, I love you too."

"No you don't."

Howard felt the petulance in his own tone, but allowed it as hurt settled in his chest. Maybe he was being too sensitive, but still; _laughter_? Tristan was now looking him fully in the face, smiling brightly, which assuaged him slightly, but hell if he was letting up that easily.

"Yes I do!"

"You don't love me."

"I do! I love you."

"No you don't, you're just saying it because I said it to you first. It doesn't mean anything."

Now Tristan was laughing full on, and Howard found himself smiling. He was just being a big ol' emotional git, like always. Taking everything far too seriously. Tristan leant into him as he let go and joined in quiet laughter of his own. Well, if laughter was Tristan's response to his professions of affection, he supposed he could live with that.

The happy noise of their laughter was abruptly shattered along with the cup that was now lying in pieces on the other end of the room. Vince sat staring at it, eyes wide as though surprised by his own actions. Howard was up on his feet and over to Vince quickly, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a bit.

"What the hell do you think you're doing throwing my crockery about, huh? You could have hurt somebody!"

"Howard, I'm sure it was an accident!"

Tristan pulled him away from the kid, who'd not bothered to respond beyond making sure his book didn't topple to the floor. The man stared at him for a good long minute before slowly going to clean up the mess.

* * *

The day of the move came quickly, and Howard was beyond shocked when he found he didn't even have to drag the boy kicking and screaming through the zoo gates. No; Vince walked out quietly, face barren, and got into the back of Tristan's car without an ounce of resistance. Seems the boy was finally getting over it. This gave Howard hope. He really wanted to alleviate the boy's anger, but every attempt to talk it over was met with silence.

The apartment looked incredibly cozy with all of Howard and Tristans' possessions decorating it. Looking around the finally finished sitting room, Howard let himself bask in the feeling of having an actual family, and a proper home.

He showed Vince to his new room. It was small but nice, with a large window beside the bed. Howard had even put all of the kid's creepy drawings up on the walls, sort of as a silent apology. The kid immediately went to sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window in silence. Howard closed the door after watching him for a while.

'_Just give him time. He'll adjust_.'

And thus was the manner in which two months passed. Vince rarely came out of his room, and when he did it was only to grab something to eat or shut himself away in the toilet. He refused to speak with Howard, and when the man began shouting at him through his locked bedroom door, Vince put on one of his Numan cassettes and blasted 'Are Friends Electric' repeatedly for several hours, much to Howard's annoyance.

Even when the date of Howard's twenty-seventh birthday arrived, it was Howard and Tristan sitting alone on the sofa, with no Vince to be seen. Howard tried not to be hurt about it; after all, he didn't throw a party or anything. Hadn't even let Tristan buy a cake like she'd wanted. He just...didn't feel much like celebrating. But still, if the boy knew what day it was, his silence toward Howard was beginning to make the man feel bereft all over again; as though Vince were back in Mitcham and not simply beyond the far wall.

Hoping to bridge the gap that was opening between them, Howard invited (well, more like ordered) Vince to join him at his next performance that coming weekend. The kid had shrugged mutely as he made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of chips before once again vanishing into his room, door lock clicking quietly behind him.

* * *

Howard's next gig was at the same club where he'd met the enigma that was Rudi, and everywhere in the dark space young people danced and shouted. It was funny how many were Howard's age, and he kept having to remind himself that he was twenty-seven, and not fifty-seven. This club was quite a large one, and apparently full of people who really liked Howard's music. After his performance he was quickly surrounded by a group of people singing his praises. He lost track of the boy, spotting him a few times as he drank and danced. Tristan had been unable to come along this time, and so Howard couldn't very well have her to help keep the kid in line. He shook his head at the kid's increasingly intoxicated ways.

Eventually Howard managed to beckon Vince to him, and firmly told the boy to stay beside him, and not to drink anymore. The teen had given him a sardonic laugh, but stayed in place as he observed the girls surrounding himself and Howard. They barely gave the boy a glance as they smiled adoringly up at the older man.

"Your songs are just so out there! It's wicked, man!"

"Yeah, I especially like that one about the llama."

"Could you sign an autograph? Um, where's a serviette..."

The girls began to move about toward the tables, but Vince spoke up quietly, holding out a folded paper napkin. Howard wondered why he'd had it on him, but was soon overtaken as the girls smiled and squealed, searching through their bags for a pen.

Howard felt incredibly chuffed at the attention. Part of him felt guilty; he was with Tristan, after all. But it's not as if he meant any of these small flirtations. He'd certainly never so much as kiss any of these women. But for a while, it was nice to be praised by attractive young ladies, when all his life Howard had been quite the wallflower. Howard looked down at Vince, and was taken aback at the dimly veiled glare the boy favored the girls with. They didn't seem to notice, and one pointed at him with a giggle.

"Aww, who's this? He your kid?"

Howard grinned, not even planning on correcting them this time. Let them think Vince was his kid.

_'Let them. Hell, why not just admit it to yourself, Moon? You like pretending the boy is yours. You may not be related by blood, but you certainly are the boy's father. And once he's over his shit mood this will all finally be per-'_

Howard's happy revelation, as well as the girls' giggling, halted, and it took Howard all of thirty seconds to figure out why. Vince had Howard's button-up in his clenched grasp, effectively pulling Howard down to his level. And he held Howard's mouth prisoner against his own. Howard smelled the mix drinks and smoke leaking through the boy's pores, and his head and heart and body revolted against the kid, tugging sharply away. Howard stared dumbly down at Vince, who turned to the awestruck women with something like a smirk.

"No, I'm not his _kid_."

Howard wasn't sure whether that was his mind or his heart cracking, but either way he was grabbing Vince viciously by the arm and leading him swiftly out of the club. Once the clear air hit them, Vince jerked his arm from Howard's grasp, and Howard had only a moment to brace himself before the kid was grabbing his shirt once more, standing on tiptoes, still not quite tall enough even with the boost to reach Howard's face. The boy was speaking quickly in a low voice, his eyes holding nothing but intoxication, and Howard highly doubted the kid really knew what he was doing. Or, at least, he prayed not. He could hardly make out a word coming from the kid's mouth.

"Je t'aime. Tu me rends fou. Je suis fou de toi et je pense a toi tout le temps et je t'aime. Please, Idon'wannabewithanyoneelse. Je...um, I...Ineverbeenwithanyone. Iwanted_you_tobemefirst,Howard._ Iloveyou_. I-"

Howard pushed Vince away, a bit too hard, as he went crashing to the pavement. Howard winced, but fright kept him from helping the boy up. Red lights were flashing in Howard's vision. He was suddenly remembering a time not too long ago, with a sofa and a newly-bought acoustic. How could he have forgotten? No, how could he have convinced himself that Vince felt nothing for Howard beyond friendship? The proof had been more than evident that night. And here it was, again, smacking him in the face with all it's painful clarity.

Vince wobbled unsteadily as he rose to his feet, glaring down at the skinned palms of his hands. His blurry eyes rose to meet Howard's, and Vince lowered his arms, letting Howard collect his thoughts and make the first move.

"I-ah-Jus..._What the hell are you doing, Vince_!? What the hell kind of sign did I ever give you that said I wanted to be snogged in front of a bunch of people in a club!?"

"I love you, Howard."

It came out so quietly, that Howard was answering back honestly before his mind had a chance to catch up.

"I love you too, Vince."

The boy cringed violently, eyes screwing shut and teeth baring as anger showed across his face once more.

"_No_, not like that. I mean...I _love_ you. I always have. Well, not _always_ but..."

Curiosity was poison.

"S...since w-when?"

"Since I was 'bout twelve."

"But...I never even _saw _you when you were twelve, how can you-"

"And I never saw _you_. Don't mean I didn't think about you. I thought about you a lot over those seven years. I weren't lyin' when I said you were my first real friend; first friend I ever _wanted_, Howard. You are. You...You were the first person who was ever...ever nice to me. You paid attention to me, even 'fore I spoke a word to you. And you weren't just nice, but you were firm with me, too. I've never 'ad that. Not even with Bryan. My guardians don't give a shit what I do with myself; never 'ave. But you _did_. You- _you fuckin' held my hand when we crossed the street_! _Every time_!"

Now tears could be seen pooling in the boy's eyes and his bleeding hand shook slightly as it stretched out in gesture. Howard had never been more torn in his life. He wanted to pull the kid close and comfort him, protect him from his own feelings. And he wanted to run. Vince now had his hands raised to his head, where they dug into his blond hair, fingers pulling. Howard took his momentary silence as an invitation to speak up, voice wavering almost as much as the kid's.

"You...you're...um. I love you, Vince. I do. But you can't...you can't just go falling for people when they give you the slightest bit of affection!"

Vince lowered his arms, three neat tear tracks trailing down his cheeks. No more followed. He simply stood there, and the two stared each other down with what could only be interpreted by passersbys as resignation. Howard's voice raised again, feeling as though a weight were wrapped around his feet, dragging him to the bottom of a deep dark sea, and he recalled an old thought he'd once had about this very boy.

_'Best take a few deep breaths now, Moon, cause you're in the ocean.'_

"You're just a kid, Vince. Even...even if you _were _a girl...you're just a kid."

Vince promptly turned and began walking slowly down the street. Howard stood watching him for several minutes, before following at a distance. He wanted to make certain the kid got back to the flat alright. And anyway, Howard didn't feel much up to partying anymore.

The tower block was nearby, and so the pair arrived at their front door within fifteen minutes. Vince stood off to the side as Howard fumbled with his key, finally able to open the door and walk in, feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges. He stood in the centre of the sitting room, facing the sofa and wall as he listened to Vince walking behind him toward his own room. When he heard the door close with a quiet snap, he collapsed completely onto his knees, leaning forward over the cushions and burying his face into them until it hurt. He was so glad Tristan was out visiting family, and so wasn't there to witness this scene. Howard didn't cry, or scream, or break things, though he greatly desired to do all three. He just sat there curled over the cushions, pain itching at his face, offering him a momentary distraction from the boy just beyond the opposite wall.


	38. Chapter 38

PENULTIMATE: Yeah I lied. There's gonna be a chapter 39; I figured a way to chop this one in half sooooo...

Chapter 38

That Sunday comprised of Howard sitting on the sofa and avoiding answering Tristan's questions as to what was bothering him. He really just wanted the day to be over so he could hurl himself head-first into his work. Bainbridge had started forcing the keepers to not work at all on Sundays a few weeks ago, just so he could have an excuse to not pay them for one day. The animals did get fed, by Fossil, who wasn't at _all _happy about the arrangement, especially now that he'd also been assigned janitorial duties on top of that. The zoo really was heading downhill fast, and Howard racked his mind constantly for ways in which he could save the quickly sinking Zooniverse.

Vince hadn't left his room since the night before, and Tristan finally became fed up, as the dinner she'd prepared went ignored by both male members, despite her repeated calling. She sent a questioning glare Howard's way as she crossed the room and thrust open Vince's door. Her immediate stillness had Howard looking toward her.

"Um, Howard...he's not in here."

The man was on his feet and in the doorway, looking about the room. With a bit of trepidation he peeked in the closet, and then checked under the bed. The boy must've slipped out through the window and climbed down somehow. Howard wasn't _too _worried. Or, at least, he forced himself not to be.

Going to the window, Howard looked down and saw several cigarette remains resting there, ashes marring the clean windowsill. The windowsill which belonged in the flat that _Howard and Tristan_ were paying for! Finally with something to take his anger out on, Howard began throwing curses as he moved around the small room, rummaging through the kid's closet and looking under the bed and in his bedside table.

"That's it, where are they? Thinks he can foul the air in _my_ house? He knows better! Goddammit, where are they? He's not smoking a single one anymore, _that is final_!"

Howard reached the dresser drawer, which they'd moved from the Lodge. It sat in a corner, and Howard jerked each drawer open, throwing clothes and items out in his search. He meant it this time; the boy was officially quitting. He'd see to that!

Tristan still stood in the doorway, but Howard payed her no mind, because with a smile of triumph, he found them! Howard gathered the packs of cigarettes in his hands, standing and carrying them into the kitchen, where he threw them into the rubbish bin. Feeling a bit calmer, he turned to see Tristan sending him a sharp look, hands on her hips.

"Now what was all that about? You've just ransacked Vince's room. Clean it up, before he comes back and throws an absolute fit. Come on!"

Howard walked back toward her and entered the room again. It was true; in his rage he hadn't noticed how he was throwing things about, and now the floor was strewn with Vince's things.

Feeling a bit guilty now, Howard began mutely picking everything up. Grabbing a shirt, Howard started a bit at the angry gaping mouth that greeted him from under it.

It was Charlie. Or rather, a picture of Charlie. The drawing was blurred by the repeating lines that overlapped again and again to form a face with two staring eyes, pupils only pinpricks that pointed in opposing directions. This was unmistakably Charlie, but it was Charlie unlike Howard had ever seen him before. His mouth was opened wide as if in a shout of anger, teeth pointing out jaggedly. Howard bent down to pick the book up, a mix of curiosity and dread making his eyes itch to see what else the book had hidden within its pages. Hell, maybe in there lay some reason for Vince's insane behavior.

"Are you done yet?"

Tristan's voice caused Howard to jump slightly, turning quickly to look at the doorway. He still respected the boy's privacy enough to not want anyone _else_ to see it. But the woman had moved back into the sitting room, and the volume on the tv went up a bit.

"Almost, just a minute!"

Making a quick decision, Howard hastily put the remainder of Vince's belongings away before walking casually out of the room, book tucked under his arm. He looked over at Tristan from the side of his vision, and noted that her eyes were on the screen. The man walked into their bedroom, placing the book in his own dresser. He'd take it with him the next day and read it there. It wasn't as if he had much to do there now, anyway. And once Howard read the book and searched its depths for answers, he'd put it right back, and hopefully the kid wouldn't notice.

* * *

Howard tried not to be too quick with feeding the birds and cleaning their cages. He was finished much sooner than normal, and sat in the shade on a bench, looking about himself nervously as he brought out the book, tucked inside the top of his trousers and hidden by his Keeper jacket.

The boy indeed hadn't noticed its disappearance, and had said no word to Howard on the bus ride over. Maybe this book would lend Howard some insight into the labyrinthine mind of the kid.

Opening the first page, Howard nearly smiled at the funny little drawings of animals running up and down the pages. Bollo could be seen sitting in a corner, munching on leaves. Many of the first pages were like this, filled with animals, occasionally intercepted by a small story. Howard didn't bother to read these, as they were almost certainly Charlie adventures, and he wasn't going through _that _again!

Less than halfway through things changed a bit. There were no more animal drawings. At least, not normal animals. Strange mutant creatures peeked up at Howard from the pages, and the man tried not to study them in too much detail. The drawings were becoming increasingly sketchy, with lines overlapping several times. And then came the pages that contained Howard's name.

Sometimes it was _just_ his name, scrawled repeatedly over the page in different elaborate styles and colors. And sometimes Vince had gone so far as to even draw himself with Howard. Smiling and sitting around the zoo with the animals, looking happy. One such page had so much pencil lead on it, the paper had been torn through in a few places. It seemed to be Howard, but he was completely devoid of detail, scrawled lines thick and overlapping to the point where Howard wouldn't have known it was him, if it weren't for the featureless balloon of a face Vince had drawn. Around this image were lines, which took Howard a few minutes to read, as they were horribly messy, even for the boy. A few words were outright unintelligible.

"...'Value of your structured silhouette...Creeping around you like a Chinese Cadbury wolf'..."

Howard's eyebrows drew together, and he turned the page, only to gasp slightly. It was Tristan's face; that he knew immediately. And dotted over her was what could only be pencil stabs. Some small and light, but a few were harsh, digging into and tearing the paper. Howard was beginning to feel sick.

The page beside it was blank except for the line 'Ladders to the moon' written at the top, almost as though there was more to it, but the words hadn't been written in.

The next several pages comprised of rather disturbing drawings of the moon, with a warped and staring face. And the Hitcher, bony with his face completely devoid of detail, save for the white polo, which felt as though it were watching Howard very carefully. The man swallowed thickly, not able to stop his hands as they turned the page.

There were also a few Charlies, becoming increasingly blurred and messy, eventually only recognisable by his moustache and wide mouth.

And then Howard turned the next page and was tipped even further into this dark and horrid nightmare he wished he's never stepped foot in. Tristan was drawn on the pages, in several positions as she bled out, red marker bleeding into each page below. There were a few other figures, indistinguishable by their scribbled faces as they lay dying, but Howard's mind could only focus on the drawings of a certain blonde-haired woman. Within the pages she was made to suffer severed limbs, crushed bones and slit throats. Sometimes there was even the Hitcher joining her on the page, and sometime it was Charlie, no more than a scribbled mass of lines standing beside her as she lay on the ground, her rib bones poking up through her chest unnaturally.

Howard snapped the pink book shut tightly, fingers closing over it as if the contents would try to tear their way out. He breathed in and out heavily, not wanting to see the last few pages. He was done with this thing. He wanted nothing more to do with it, and didn't want the kid to have it back. It was only fueling his crazed behavior!

Howard stood and went for the nearest bin, throwing the book in, and walked toward the aviary without looking back.

* * *

Life in his flat became a bit hazy for Howard. Now he spent all his time there on the sofa, mumbling out replies to Tristan's questions and trying not to stare at Vince's bedroom doorway. The boy never came out, not even to eat dinner. Howard couldn't even bring his foggy mind to react much when Tristan snapped at him, yelling out questions as to what had come over him and the boy. Howard could only shrug.

The man didn't even crack a smile when Tristan came to him after a phone call, saying that one of the owners of Pieface Records had decided to give him a record deal. He'd be able to write weird songs professionally, so she'd said. Howard just barely stopped himself from laughing.

There was to be a celebration in honor of this event, the owners of Pieface had insisted, and even let Howard choose the location. The man didn't know any places to throw a party, and so had said the Zooniverse, fully believing they wouldn't go for that. When they agreed he knew he couldn't take it back without looking like a fool.

It was to be set up on a Friday, and Bainbridge had gladly agreed to close the zoo down for the event. Howard suspected he was going to use it as an opportunity to find as many 'donators' for his zoo as possible.

In just a few short days Howard was walking through the zoo gates to find bright decorations draping over animal exhibits and around lamp posts. They all seemed so out of place in the desolate environment, and Howard felt incredibly nervous as the realisation of what was happening finally began to dawn on him. The boy and Tristan were there, as well as the zoo staff and several people Howard didn't recognise.

"Ah, Mr Moon! There you are! I've heard so much about you from my business partner."

A man came gliding into Howard's view, his posture straight as a board, and his hand felt so rigid as he shook Howard's that Howard barely contained a wince. Nonetheless the man seemed unaffected by his own body, and smiled pleasantly, introducing himself.

"Good evening, sir, my name is Hamilton. You've already met Arthur, I hear. He sends his regrets that he can't make it today, but you should know he's been pushing to get you a deal for several months now."

"Really? Wow, uh, th-thank you. Thank you very much."

The man gave Howard another smile, nodding to Tristan at his side before walking off to join the small crowd gathering around Bainbridge, who was relaying another of his adventurous tales. What a tosser.

Howard spent a few hours chatting with his friends. Gideon, Joey and Tristan all looked equally as bored as Howard, and they all shared a good laugh about that over their wine glasses. Howard then looked around and noticed that he'd lost sight of the boy. Vince had spent the entire time sitting on a bench, flipping a feed spade and ignoring even Naboo's attempts at conversation.

Howard excused himself, moving away from his small group and walking around the zoo in search for the kid. He still couldn't shake his protective need to know where the teen was at all times. Spotting Fossil, Howard walked quickly toward him. The man was entirely on his own, which was a bit odd, staring at the ground with a pensive expression. Maybe he'd spoken to Vince.

"Um, hi, Mr Fossil. Have you by any chance seen Vince running around?"

Fossil looked up at him, face blank for a second before clear distaste was scraped across it.

"Don't ever talk to me, Moon. Or I'll fly up the walls and I'll spend money on it!"

Fossil seemed genuinely on edge over something, which was strange. But Howard had other worries, and so dismissed it as Fossil still being cross over the whole gorilla suit thing. Jesus, the man sure could hold a grudge. Howard made to step away, but Fossil's voice brought him to a stop.

"He went that way."

Howard turned back to the man, seeing which direction his hand was pointing, and was fast-walking that way, Fossil and his odd behavior swept aside in Howard's mind. He rounded a corner, and found himself walking the familiar path toward the Lodge. He should've known better.

With a grim expression Howard opened the front door, stepping in slowly as he looked about the room. Vince sat on the old couch, which had gathered a thin layer of dust in the months of their absence. Howard sat down beside him after far too many hesitations. He looked ahead at the space where the tv used to sit perched on the low table.

"Vince, uh...I know that...things are bad. And they're awkward, but...is there any way past this? This...I don't know what to call it...Um, look. I promise- I _swear _that we will sit down once we're home and talk about this. It's going to be horrible, and we'll probably shout and kick things, but...I just want us to talk again. Is that alright?"

Howard now dared a look over at the boy, who was also having trouble pulling his gaze off the floor. He looked Howard in the eye for a brief moment before nodding.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Well then, why don't you come out to the party, hmm? Come on, everyone wants to talk with you. I'll even let you have some wine."

"Don't want any."

Despite his words, the boy rose to his feet and followed Howard out the door and back to the crowd of people, all of which Howard noticed were surrounding Bainbridge. Howard's skin prickled slightly as he saw that literally _everyone_ was standing around him, even Naboo and his friend Pete.

Dixon had found purchase up on top of a bench, and stood over the crowd, face entirely too happy, even for one of his false heroic tales. And that was when Howard saw the glint of sequins as clouds shifted and the lowering sun came peeking out. Bainbridge held within his hands a sparkly pink book, with little punks designs across it.

Howard's throat seized, and he found himself unable to call out, unable to tear his eyes off of the object within Dixon's possession. The man was now turning the book around, and everyone laughed and commented at a Hitcher drawing.

Howard began staggering slowly forward. He willed his legs to move faster, but they seemed dead. Dead and rotting and becoming stiff as Bainbridge flipped to a new page and began reciting a Charlie tale, much to the crowd's amusement and slight horror.

Finally reaching the backs of the people at the edge of the crowd, Howard gripped their shirts tight as he shoved them to the side, not able to distinguish faces or voices as people cried out indignantly. He only saw Dixon and the book.

Reaching his target, Howard didn't bother exchanging glares or jibes. He simply shot out his hands and ripped the book out of the man's grasp. Bainbridge jumped down from the bench, looking startled and then angry, before finally settling on amused. He sauntered a little around Howard, who had the book tightly gripped under his arm.

"Oh? Is that your book, Moon? You must not have wanted it. See, Fossil recently came to me with news of a special find. As he was taking out the rubbish for the night he noticed something shining from within one bag. Why, it was a book! And a very interesting book, indeed. Now just give that here, Moon, and we'll have no further trouble."

Bainbridge held out his hand calmly, and Howard turned away from it, brain unable to fully process his words before they were out.

"No! You can't read this book, it'll upset Vince."

Bainbridge's eyebrows rose, and several murmurings broke out among their captivated audience.

"_Oh_? And what does he have to do with it? Hah! Knew the book was a bit too girly even for you, Moon. It's Noir's, isn't it? Figures. But my my, doesn't the boy have quite a mind in that head of his...Where is the little nutcase, anyway? When you see him, Moon, I want you to tell him he's fired. There'll be no place in _my_ zoo for psychopaths with little infatu-"

Bainbrige's speech was cut short as there was a loud _thwack!_ sounding in the air, and Bainbridge's head shot to the side, followed quickly by his body as it hit the ground. Standing behind him was Vince, readjusting his grip on a shovel. Dirt still encrusted it's edges, now accompanied by flecks of blood. The boy looked down on the unmoving Bainbridge, and there was a brief incredible moment of stillness. Time itself didn't freeze, but everyone else did. Absolute stillness and silence, for a second. And then a scream, followed by more, and then everyone was backing away, scattering in a panic as Vince came at them, shovel landing harsh blows on any who got close enough.

Before Howard could react he found himself standing alone in the zoo centre, a few bodies lying around him, groaning in pain. Screams and shouts filled the air as people scrambled down the various pathways, in their fear becoming lost, even those who knew the layout by heart.

Howard found he could move again, and quickly looked down around him, making sure no one looked dead or familiar.

"HOWARD!"

Recognising Tristan's voice from far off, Howard sprinted forward in the direction it had come from. Now everything was mostly quiet, only a few isolated shouts. Everyone was hiding, it seemed. And no doubt some had found the gates and escaped. Hopefully someone had thought to phone the police. Howard tried to slow down his endless string of useless thoughts as he heard the sound of metal on metal. He ran around and corner, just in time to see Vince deal Joey a vicious blow to the stomach with the handle end of his shovel. The boy quickly rotated it in his hands, and Howard tried to cry out as he watched Vince strike the felled man across the face with the shovel blade, blood freckling across the ground.

Now there was only Tristan, cornered in a dead end, back pressed into cage bars. Vince stepped over Joey's unconscious form and brought the shovel up, ready to dish out the same treatment on the woman. Tristan screamed, hands raising in an instinctual act of defense. Howard suddenly found his voice again, rising in a shout that rattled his ribcage.

"**VINCE**!"

The boy paused, and Howard took that moment to dash forward and up behind Vince, grabbing hold of the shovel and using it to pull the boy against him. He successfully trapped one arm, and Vince kicked out violently, using his free arm to reach up and deal some painful scratches across Howard's right eye and cheek. Howard heard sirens in the distance, quickly getting louder. If only he could contain the kid until they arrived. Then he could calm Vince down. Then they could all go home and he and the kid would have that talk and then everything would be resolved and the boy would apologise for acting on like he had and Tristan and Moose and everyone would forgive him and Howard would forgive him and-

Pain erupted in Howard's right knee, and he found himself pitching forward, grip lost, crashing to his knees in the dirt. Vince staggered away from him, staring down at the man as Tristan dove for Howard, gripping his arm and crouching in front of him, as though to shield him from the kid. Vince stared at the two of them, and then down at the shovel lying between them; his body twitched as though to make a move.

His intentions were interrupted as police officers came bursting from around a corner, guns pointing, shouting words Howard couldn't make clear. And then the kid ran. He skirted just out of the officers' outstretched hands and vanished around the opposite corner, cops in quick pursuit.

Howard rose to his feet, disentangling himself from Tristan and ignoring the throb in his knee he ran to catch up. It was now quite dark out as the evening had become night within a matter of seconds, and Howard heard the men and women's shouts as they searched about for the boy.

Howard found himself bumping into people as he dazedly wandered around, looking behind shrubs and in bins. After what seemed an eternity, a glint of blue irises caught his gaze, and Howard was reaching forward into the darkness beside the gift shop, hand making contact with warm skin before the boy shot away from him, attempting to run as Howard pursued him.

The older man grabbed the boy by his shirt, pulling him close and turning the kid to face him. Vince struggled against him, panicked and primal, as an animal. Howard grasped the boy's face tightly in his hands, angling it up so that he met Howard's gaze.

"Stop this, alright Vince, please just stop this! It's alright! It's okay, it's just me, Howard! It's Howard! Vince?"

The boy's arms went limp at his sides, and he no longer fought, just stared blankly up at the older man.

Bright beams of light were suddenly on them, and Vince and Howard squinted their eyes in the direction of its source. Officers were aiming torches and guns at them, shouting at Howard to step away, and for Vince to raise both hands.

Howard quickly turned so that he was blocking the boy from their view. He really didn't want one of them to accidentally shoot off one of their guns and hit the kid. He raised both his hands to show he meant no harm, ignoring the repeated orders to walk slowly toward them. They had to understand. They had to realise that this was all just a big mistake. A misunderstanding, and that Howard had it all under control. Howard would fix this. There was no need for police involvement.

"It's okay! He- he doesn't know what he's doing. He didn't mean it! I'll take him home straight away and...he didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

"It's over. I hate you. It's over."

Startled, Howard looked over his shoulder down at the boy, who'd spoken the quiet words as his hands clamped over his ears, eyes staring at the ground.

The officers were now moving toward Howard and around him, grabbing the boy and pulling his arms behind his back. Howard followed closely behind, not able to stop himself from grasping the kid as they moved, being pulled and pushed away repeatedly by officers as the gates came into view.

"Please, you don't have to do this! You're being too rough, he's not even resisting! Look,_ I _can walk him to the car-"

"Sir just please stay back!"

Howard was held back firmly as they guided Vince down into the backseat of one of the vehicles, lights flashing overhead, making things difficult to see. Suddenly Tristan was in his face, looking petrified and asking him if he were alright. Howard just stared dumbly after the car containing Vince as it drove off into the darkness.

(And so concludes my favorite Boosh song, Married on the Morrow. Hope you guys picked up that that's what Vince has been singing in small bits ever since like chapter 13. I know one of you certainly did ;) The song really sums up this entire story, and is by far my favorite Boosh song, from the radio series. Anyway, next chapter will for sure be the last, so if ya have any hate/love/questions you'd best make them known in the comment before the curtains close over this tale.)


	39. Chapter 39

REDCURTAINS: Okay let me make it clear once and for all. I know next to _nothing _about courts and lawyers and any of this that I'm now finding myself writing about DX so be gentle with any mistakes. I purposely made the whole thing rather vague, which I regret terribly, but there's just nothing else for it...

Chapter 39

Howard was currently helping a fellow keeper wrestle another animal into a crate. Many more were already being loaded into transport cars, ready to be taken to new zoos. Howard looked around himself at the empty exhibits. The zoo was closed today. Not that anyone would ever come there again.

But that wasn't it. The zoo wasn't just closed for the day. It was closed indefinitely. Bainbridge was selling the Zooniverse. _Had _sold it, in fact, just the day before. They were going to build a road over it.

Eight days had passed since the incident, and not a single customer had visited the zoo, or even come near it. Howard supposed Bainbridge was simply cutting his losses. The man was livid, but was surprisingly not seeking to take this matter to court against Vince. The boy had a trial in the next fifteen days, but Howard had it on a good source that Dixon planned to be far out of Wimbledon by then. It was all so suspicious, and Howard felt like beating the man's head in himself at all the questions that crowded Howard's.

Fossil hadn't been spotted since the day after Vince's rampage. The man hadn't been hurt. Indeed, the kid hadn't even went after him. No, Howard heard it from Naboo that Fossil had owed money. Big money. To some shady 'book maker', or so Naboo said.

Apparently this bloke must've seen Fossil's name in the paper, as the Chief Manager of the Zooniverse, and had tracked him down. Now the blue-shirted man was missing, and police were looking into that as well.

Tristan had been so horrified by the entire event, she'd went to stay with her parents for a while, refusing to live in their flat with Vince there. Howard couldn't understand. All the boy did now was lay curled up in bed. Howard had to bring his food to him every morning before leaving for the zoo. He'd tried again and again to talk, even going so far as to bring up things he knew would make the kid snap at him. But nothing; the boy had just...turned off. Howard was counting down the days to his trial with a lump in his throat and a twist in his stomach.

"Alright, that's all of them!"

Howard snapped to the present, watching with a feeling of numbness as the vehicles filed out through the gates. The animals were gone. The visitors were gone. Cooper was gone. The Zooniverse was finished.

Howard turned to see Naboo looking at him with a solemn stare. The two had put aside their mutual hatred after the event. What was the point? Hell, Howard was certain he'd never see this tiny man again in his life. So why fight anymore? Naboo seemed to feel the same. He nodded up at Howard as he approached.

"So you check up on Moose lately?"

"Yeah, he's doing fine. Going to...have a bit of scar on his face...but he's taking it well. He'll be out by tomorrow. Me and Mrs Gideon are going to see him after we're done here, actually."

"Give him my best."

"Sure."

Gideon walked over just then, sad smile on her face as she gave her goodbyes to Naboo. They all knew this was their last time together in this zoo, and if Howard were a looser person, he'd have hugged every single staff member. In fact, a few were doing so just then in the zoo centre. But Howard simply allowed Gideon to take him by the arm and shepherd him through the gates, casting one last look back at the entrance.

* * *

"Vince, I'm home."

Howard called out, motioning to hang up his Keeper jacket, but remembering with a sigh that he wasn't wearing it anymore. Bainbridge had taken all of them, probably just to try and sell. The only one left was Vince's, still hanging in the boy's closet.

Howard rapped his knuckles twice on Vince's open door, looking in. The kid hadn't seemed to move at all. Still lying on his left side, facing away from the door, staring blankly at the wall. He hadn't even thrown a fit when Howard revealed his confiscating of Vince's cigarettes. Howard really hoped he wasn't this blank in court. If the boy was given a prison sentence...Howard didn't let that thought live for very long in his brain each time it hatched. They were going to get through this.

Gideon had actually agreed to provide Vince with her attorney. When she'd told Howard over lunch hour, the man had very nearly cried. He instead hoisted her up off her feet and spun her as she laughed for the first time in days. Howard himself was grinning from ear to ear, thankful beyond measure. Gideon truly was a woman of class; Howard had always known it. She was still shaken up over the entire thing, and refused to visit with Vince, but her help showed that she still supported Howard's decision to support Vince.

Sitting on the sofa, Howard turned the volume on the television up, silence permeating throughout the rooms. He knew he should probably start dinner, but he was more than a little weary of the boy's state of stillness, and wanted to see if he'd get up to get his own food.

Sure enough, a few hours into a documentary on the history of film noirs, the boy appeared in his doorway, ghosting over to the kitchen. He rummaged in the cabinets before finding a bag of Walkers. Howard observed from the corner of his eye as the kid padded back toward his room, only to pause multiple times on his journey. He eventually turned and made his hesitant way toward the couch, sitting down on the other side.

Howard tried very hard not to react in any way. He didn't want to drive the boy further from him, but he was also still reeling utterly from Vince's confession, and then the book, to finally watching the kid attack a crowd of people. It was all so indistinguishable and overpowering that Howard felt wholly numb. He wasn't able to hold back a slight jerk as he felt the boy's body against his own, their sides pressing, the kid moving to lay his head against Howard's shoulder, like they used to sit. At the older man's sudden movement, Vince drew back again to his previous spot on the other end. Neither spoke a word to eachother, not even when Leroy dropped by to see Vince, Howard moving into his bedroom to give them privacy. Or when Gideon called to remind Howard of his meeting with her attorney for their plan. Or even when he called Tristan and the two had an intense discussion over why she refused to live with the boy; an argument they'd had nearly every night for eight days.

* * *

Howard tried to calm himself with steady breaths as he seated himself beside Vince in Gideon's attorney, Ms Rose's office. At hearing where they were going and why, the boy had gotten up from his bed, dressed reasonably, and followed Howard mutely the entire tube ride to the building in which the woman worked.

She smiled nicely to the teen, introducing herself. Vince just stared down at the top of her desk. The woman took this all in good stride, immediately getting to business with explaining the defense plan she and Howard had decided was their best bet.

Pleading not guilty just wouldn't do. There were witnesses, evidence, and the word of every officer who'd been present at the attack. If they went for that approach it'd be like snapping the cell door shut in the boy's face.

No, their best tactic was simply to plead insanity. Allow the court to have the necessary tests run on the kid, and hope for the best. Howard had felt like shit when he'd spoken with Ms Rose about the boy's mental state. He felt like a backstabber, but he knew it was Vince's only chance. He knew that if the doctors got the boy talking, they'd see exactly what Howard saw every day, and what those people at the Zooniverse had seen. Vince was completely insane. Howard had never truly believed it; well, he'd known it, but he'd never thought it to be the dangerous kind of insane. The kind you saw on the news, and read about in scary novels. Now Howard had had the luxury of seeing the Zooniverse on the news several times.

The man swallowed thickly as all of this was explained concisely to Vince, albeit in a much nicer way. The boy's nails were digging into his trousers by the end, eyebrows drawn and red eyes wide. Howard felt ashamed for having to calm himself yet again. This was Vince, for christ's sake! He wasn't going to turn and maul Howard to death simply because he got angry!

Vince opened his mouth, tone whispered and shaky with emphasis, gruff from several days misuse, his gaze fixed intensely on the desk.

"_I'm not crazy_..."

The lady sighed, leaning forward in her seat, visibly trying to placate the boy while making him see reason.

"We know that, Vincent, we know. But this is your only way out; do you understand?"

"...They'll lock me up. They'll stuff me in a jacket and put me away."

The woman nodded, all patience and understanding.

"They might, Vincent, but would you really rather _prison_?"

The boy didn't answer, just swallowed and looked further down onto the floor, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.

Howard and Ms Rose continued the rest of the meeting in low voices, mindful of Vince's every twitch and grimace as they spoke. Howard didn't know what to do, honestly. He didn't want the boy placed in a mental hospital, but he certainly didn't want him doing time in jail. Hell, Howard just wanted to...he wanted to...to just grab the kid and blast off into space with him.

But that was ludicrous. Impossible. And so here Howard sat on earth, imprisoned by gravity and the reality of his life.

* * *

Vince's court date came surprisingly fast for Howard, leaving the man with a sense of whiplash and an inability to breathe easily. He'd had to have Ms Rose calm him down from an anxiety attack outside the court doors, which was completely humiliating. Luckily Vince had been sent ahead, and so wasn't there to see Howard's utter and complete cowardice.

Howard felt very grateful toward Ms Rose; the woman had been nothing if not gentle and understanding, and together they moved brusquely through the front doors.

The court room was filled with a small jury, a tired looking judge, and many others Howard suspected were at the zoo on that day. He'd been proven right, when several were asked to come up and give their accounts of the event. Howard had to physically sit on his hands so as not to raise them in gestures at the people. He knew they were right. They got no detail wrong, and they had every reason to want to see the teen who'd attacked them brought to justice. But Howard still wanted them all dead. Or, at least, not in the room.

Eventually came their turn, and Vince rose on call, going up to the stand as Ms Rose delivered their statement and insanity plea. The boy was looking as if he'd long-since tuned them out, and it took the prosecutor a few calls to get his attention. The suited man walked slowly up and down the room as he questioned Vince, beginning with rather simple ones, like where he'd been the day of the attack and aw hell Howard was feeling itchy and he just couldn't concentrate on the guy's voice and Vince was just blank and oh thank god the prosecutor's questions seemed to be over.

Ms Rose quickly moved forward for her own questions when the time came. She stood still, facing the teen.

"Now Vincent, what was the cause of this attack? In your own words, tell us why you chose to harm Mr Dixon Bainbride and the other people that you did?"

"...I didn't."

"You didn't what, Vincent?"

The boy licked his lips, eyes shifting around, glancing at all the faces in the room, as though he'd only just dropped in through the roof and had no idea who these people were.

"I didn't attack anybody."

Ms Rose's eyebrows raised, and Howard had a feeling this was exactly what she'd wanted.

"You didn't? So who _did _attack all of those victims with the shovel, Mr Noir."

"...Charlie did."

The boy said the name with a fear in his voice so palpable Howard nearly forgot that Vince's Charlie was make-believe. He sat up straight, dreading the questions the boy would have to face but knowing his replies could guarantee him safety from a prison sentence.

"So you're saying a man named Charlie hurt everyone at the zoo that day?"

"W-well, Charlie isn't...um. I'd rather not talk about him."

"And why is that?"

"Because he gets really angry...when people don' believe in him."

"So you're saying Charlie is made up, a hallucination. Is that right, Vincent? And how long have you been having these hallucinations?"

The boy was slowly shrinking in on himself, shoulders rising and fingers twitching in his lap. Howard could see him pulling the skin off of his bottom lip with his teeth, his voice getting smaller and smaller as he spoke.

"I'm not...Charlie's...um."

Ms Rose seemed to take pity on him as she paced across the room, her next question coming out in a soothing tone.

"It's alright, Vincent, why don't you tell the court how long you've known Charlie?"

"For 'bout...eleven years, I think. Can't really remember."

"So back to the book. The one that Bainbridge was reading that day. What was in it that made you so upset, Vincent?"

"I don't know. I...I don't remember."

"Ah, well, you won't have to; because the book has been submitted as evidence, and I have a few photographs of its pages for the jury to see."

The woman got out a small stack of large photos, holding them up one by one for the jury to ponder over. Howard kept his gaze trained on Vince, who was refusing to watch, eyes on his lap, brows drawn and mouth in a tight line. He was clamming up, right in the middle of court. He was no longer fidgeting, but had gone absolutely still as the jury and judge beheld the pictures in much whisperings and glances at the boy. No doubt Ms Rose had chosen the most disturbing pages she could find. Howard was beginning to wonder if this plan was worth it.

Ms Rose then carried the photos over to Vince, coming to stand directly before him.

"Tell me, Vincent, is this what drove you to harm Mr Bainbridge? Were you angered that he had shown everyone your drawings?"

"I don't..."

The boy trailed off into mumblings, face ducking lower to avoid looking at the photos presented to him. The woman inclined her head forward.

"What was that, Vincent?"

The kid was suddenly lurching forward, slamming his hands down on the desk with an echoing clap, eyes glaring static hatred down at Ms Rose, who backed away a few steps. His voice was broken and raspy and faltered near the end as the entire court jumped slightly.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

To her credit, the lady recovered quickly.

"What would you like me to call you then, Mr Noir?"

The kid was now seated once more, taking deep breaths as though to calm himself, eyes once again fixed downward.

"Just...call me Vince."

"Alright, Vince, did you draw these?"

The boy gave one quick glance up at the photographs in Ms Rose's arms before shaking his head.

"No."

The rest of the case went much like this, and Howard was terrified the jury wouldn't deliver a say on the case. Howard just wanted it to be over, as much as he dreaded their final word. And after several hours he got his wish.

It was finally decided that the boy would be taken to a hospital, where his mental state would be evaluated. Then, based on the results, the judge would give his final sentence.

Howard didn't know whether to shout, cry or sigh. Vince did _not _share in his mixed feelings. As the officers came to escort him from the room, the boy had shirked away from them, fingers clamping around the bottom of his seat.

"I'm not crazy! I'm _not_! I didn't do anything!"

Howard shot up, barely restraining himself from launching in there and grabbing the boy away from these burly men who in Howard's eyes were not being as gentle as they should be! He found his eyes stung as he exited the courtroom, Ms Rose just behind him. He sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to listen as Ms Rose spoke calmingly.

"Now Howard, this is a good thing, remember? This is what we wanted. It's going to be alright. I know it's hard, but you've got to understand that this is for the best. This is what's best for that boy's health."

Howard gave mute nods to everything she said, and returned to his empty flat, laying across his bed and deciding not to call anyone to inform them on how the case went. Not only Leroy, but Gideon, Moose, Tristan and Naboo all wanted him to call.

Sod them.

Howard had to wait another three days before Vince was to be brought back before the judge, and he'd been told that he wasn't allowed to see the kid whilst his evaluation was in process. Howard couldn't help imagining Vince's earlier words. Of the boy in a strait jacket, lying alone in a padded room, and wondered distantly if a barred cell might've been more merciful.

* * *

Howard found himself deliriously wandering down the street from the courthouse, passing the bus stop and bumping into people. He didn't see them. Didn't hear or feel them. Didn't heed Ms Rose's voice as she called after him from the courthouse steps.

He'd just heard the judge's sentence. It wasn't prison, but it wasn't the order of house-arrest or appointments with a psychiatrist like Ms Rose had been pushing for. No. It was a commitment to Wimbledon Mental Health Centre, where Vince would be sent to live until his doctor assigned to him deemed him mentally fit for release. Howard knew that that could take months, possibly longer. And he also knew it was Vince's worst nightmare, if the look the boy had shot across at him was any clue.

Vince hadn't struggled when the officers came, but kept looking Howard's way as long as possible. Howard wasn't certain whether he'd been conveying his anger, sadness, fear, or what! All he knew was that before he was aware he was running toward the kid, being restrained by security and thrown out of the courtroom.

Once in the hall Ms Rose spoke to him quickly as his head spun. Something about still being able to visit Vince, and that he'd be in good hands, and that he'd be released as soon as he was well again, and Howard was no longer listening.

Howard had flung open the courthouse doors, not seeing the sun.

* * *

Tristan sighed for the tenth time, and Howard finally looked up at her from across the table. She stared pointedly at him for a minute before speaking. The same thing she'd been saying for nearly a month now.

"You should go see him. Really, Howard, you should. I know his friend Leroy's been to visit several times. And Gideon even went."

Ah yes, Gideon had indeed found time in between moving out of town to see the kid. She was going to live near another, larger zoo, one where she could once again live among snakes.

Howard knew he should go and see the boy. Told himself so every day as he searched about for a new job. Hell, even Joey had advised him to do so just before he himself moved back to Australia, taking his eccentric family with him. The old men had sure seemed excited to go, most never having been.

It was strange, not seeing their faces every day, as he had for nearly ten years. He was even beginning to miss Naboo and his damn camel kiosk.

But most of all he missed the kid. Missed him so much Tristan had caught him damn near crying over it several times. But Howard never cried; he wouldn't. He had to suck it in. He had to. Grown men didn't cry. Howard Moon didn't cry.

But he was afraid, so very terrified, that if he walked up to the boy and laid eyes on him that he wouldn't be able to leave. And when the security forced him to, which they would, he knew then that he _would_ cry. And he wasn't going to cry.

So Howard just let Tristan's words hang in the air, silence the main thing they inhaled into their lungs these days, and continued to eat dinner.

**END**

Alright now before you kick me in the teeth, I'd like to remind you this is only Series 1. Series 2 is in the works now.

As for this, if it were a movie, which it is in my head :P then the credits would now be rolling. And the song I imagine for this would be Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap, because it's_ literally_ the entire fanfic in one song. It's all of Howard's views on Vince, good and bad, entirely. Hell, just the opening music notes make me tear up. The words '_Oh, reckless abandon, like no one's watching you_' just sums up Vince from Howard's viewpoint beautifully. The song just has this air of fondness and protectiveness that really kicks me in the heart.

Anyway, a big thank you to all who read and reviewed! You really kept me inspired, even when I spent long nights staring dazedly at my computer screen, practically pulling my hair out from writer's block. I probably would've given up long ago if it weren't for the fact that I had promised you all I wouldn't. So thanks again, especially to my very loyal reviewer, who gave me endless happy feelings!

Also, keep an eye out for the sequel, which will be called Hiraeth. No idea for sure when it'll be out, but hopefully within a few months. I definitely won't make you poor people wait a year or anything. The summary of it will be:

"The moon couldn't speak. Howard knew this. But just in case, he liked to talk to it sometimes, in the hopes that it might relay a message."

So keep an eye out. And thanks once again, I hope you enjoyed the show.**  
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